


Whitestars and Golden Wolves

by TimeLadyoftheSith



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Kingdoms, Magic, Married Smut, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLadyoftheSith/pseuds/TimeLadyoftheSith
Summary: The Kingdom of Powell and the Empire of Gallifrey were once allies, but as time passed they grew to be tenuous neighbors. With the resurrection of their ancient enemy, the two nations must find a way to end their dispute and join forces, even if it means combining the blood of their royal families





	1. Prologue

 

The War of Nightmares had lasted nearly eighty years. The northern Empire of Gallifrey had stood side by side with the southern Kingdom of Powell in an effort to battle back the forces of Davros. Mages and soldiers combined power and steel to repel back the howling demons. In the end, when both nations were facing their final limits, they managed to push back the darkness of Skaro into the bitter tundras over the Cardiff mountains into the gaping Rift.

With an outburst of power, a Gallifreyan mage, Gwyneth, and a Powell soldier, Owen, had sacrificed themselves to seal the Rift. It created an impassable barrier, effectively locking the desolate wasteland away from the rest of the world.

History turned into stories meant to scare naughty children into behaving. The Daleks became nothing more than shadowy monsters hidden under beds or knocking in closets. Davros was just a name whispered over a roaring fire in an effort to scare a lover into the safety of one's arms. Time passed, washing away old friendships, and now the once allies found themselves locked in bitter contention for two hundred and fifty years.

Nobody could remember why the dispute started between the two lands who had once been stalwart allies. Some historians claimed it started when the high Emperor of Gallifrey took offense at a comment made by the Queen of Powell. Other scholars believe it started when the the King of Powell was slighted by the Princess Regent of Gallifrey. There were even fewer who believed that Gallifrey, a land rooted in magic and the study of knowledge did not approve of the Powell Kingdom training every child, man and woman, to be warriors.

No living soul knew the true reason, not even the current reigning families. All anyone knew is that they vehemently despised each other, but had never been involved in an outright war. Some small skirmishes had occurred over time, as was to be expected, but they kept a tenuous truce amongst themselves.

Gallifrey depended on Powell for access to the southern seas for fruits and vegetables during the frigid winters, and Powell needed the thick, sturdy lumber of Gallifrey to maintain their trade ships and bustling farms. Powell also provided the vital herbs and roots necessary to create medicines for the diseases and illnesses that the Gallifreyan mages could not cure with their powers.

Perhaps, had they been allies, the Emperor of Gallifrey, Rassilon, would have alerted The King of Powell, Peter, that his nephew, Harold, had been driven mad by a spell. Perhaps, had they been on amiable terms, King Peter and Queen Jacqueline would have informed the Emperor that a strange blonde man had traveled into their lands looking for particular dagger. If only they had been friends, then everyone would have known what was coming.

But ifs and maybes are pointless fancies. They can't change the past. They can't heal a slit throat in a quiet stables. They can't reclaim blood locked in a bottle made of diamond, and they definitely can't keep a crazed mage from pouring that blood onto a shimmering wall in the mountains. The Emperor is dead, long live the Empress?


	2. Dread Tidings

The morning air was chilled, hailing the incoming winds of winter. It bit through the thin silk of his shirt as Prince James stripped off his coarse, heavy traveling cloak. He had been out in the surrounding villages for the last three says in an effort to find out any rumors about his cousin's whereabouts. He pulled the saddle bags from Anurob's back, and slung them over his shoulder. Normally, his people rode without a saddle, but carrying supplies had dictated the need. He was about to undo the buckle of the girth, when a glint of metal caught his eye.

His brow furrowed in concern as he spotted a group of battle mages gathered around the heavy wooden doors that led into the towering castle. Even from this distance, the circular insignia could not be mistaken, it was the Lord General's personal company. The Lord General never traveled from Arcadia to the Capitol City, Tardis. Even when his father died, nearly a month ago, the man had not left his post. Instead, he communicated with the Royal Family through means of enchanted mirrors.

"Your Highness!" The sharp voice of his closest friend and cousin on his mother's side rang clear across the courtyard. Donna was hurrying across the frosty grass to reach him. Her hair flew behind her, and the early morning sun sparkled off the waves giving the impression of her hair aflame. "Come quickly!" She gasped, her fair cheeks flushed pink, and she grabbed his bags from his shoulders. She hadn't even bothered with the pretense of a curtsy. He wasn't irritated by that, as he had told her to never do it when they were alone. "Your mother needs you."

"What's happening?" James asked, as Donna shouldered the bags and tossed his cloak over the silver horse's saddle.

"I have no idea." Donna replied, waving her hand over her head as she clucked her tongue at Anurob to turn him to the stables. "The Lord General and his mages rode in this morning as if the very spirits of hell were on their backs. They demanded the Empress be awoken at once, and they have been locked in the counsel room since." Anxiety was evident in her normally joyful eyes.

James pressed a brotherly kiss to her head. "Thank you." He huffed and sprinted across the courtyard. The guards at the door snapped to attention and yanked open the heavy wood as he darted past them. His riding boots echoed as he took the broad stone stairs two at a time to the second floor. More guards and battle mages were assembled outside the double oak doors to the counsel room, muttering to each other. They parted as he strode past them into the room.

His mother was standing beside the war table, both of her hands were planted firmly, bracing her slight weight as her brown curls fell in a tangle about her face. The Lord General was standing across of her with two of his mages, pointing at something before them. Ancient maps were sprawled across it's smooth top, held in place by sparkling crystals. "This is where they were sighted." The man explaining.

The sound of the Prince's entrance made everyone in the room look up. "James!" His mother pushed away from the table, relief washing across her worried features. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "You're alive. Thank the Starmakers!"

James squeezed the slender woman as tightly as possible. Her energy was crackling around them, and the golden sparks of her power danced along her hair. "Of course I'm alive, Mother." He comforted her and raised an eyebrow at the General over her head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

The Empress pulled back with a grimace. "Something has happened. Something far worse than we could ever have feared." She pulled him towards the maps.

As James looked down, he saw the dusty parchment revealed the outline of Gallifrey as well as the borders of Powell. Anger flared in his gut, and the taste ozone sparked on his tongue. His first comprehension was that King Peter had finally declared war. "What has Powell done now?" He growled, slamming his palm flat on the table. "I'll slaughter the King with my bare hands if he has attacked us."

"It wasn't King Peter." The Lord General finally spoke. "A small village near the Cardiff mountains was attacked four days ago." He explained, pointing a gloved finger at a small dot on the map. "It was a small force, and they came during the night. They slaughtered nine families before a married pair retired battle mage were able to repel them. They managed to kill one, but the others fled into the mountains."

He nodded to his mages, and one of them handed him a black leather sack. "This was taken from the the one they managed to kill." He untied the sack and peeled back the layers. What he saw made Jame's stomach turn. It was a head, a bald head. The skin was mottled and covered in a viscous goo, and short tentacle like appendages framed the jawline. The eyes were open, and the two on either side of the nostril slits were milky white with pinpoints of black. In the center of the forehead was a third eye. This one was a sickening blue, like the lips of a body frozen in the snow. The smell coming off of it was worse than a decaying skunkrat.

"What in the name of Starmakers is that?" He gasped. He wanted to cover his own nose, but gritted back the urge.

"According to the historians of Arcadia, this is a Dalek." His mother spoke now, her own nose was crinkled in disgust.

"But that's just not possible." James shook his head. "They were annihilated centuries ago." He crossed his arms and glowered at the head. "They are nothing more than bogey tales for children now."

"They weren't annihilated, James." The Empress shook her head and reached forward to cover the disgusting thing up. "They were locked away in the wastelands of Skaro. The Rift was created to keep them there."

"Exactly." The Lord General growled. "They should have perished without access to the outside world. The land there is barren. There are no lakes or rivers, no ground for farming. Just an endless void of perpetual twilight and poison fire." His fist balled on the table. "They should have gone extinct."

Confusion riddled James' brain as he contemplated this impossible scenario. "Say this is a Dalek." He began, rubbing his fingers through his own close cropped hair. "Say they did manage to survive somehow after a thousand years. How did they make it through the Rift? It's sealed with ancient magic on our side of the barrier."

"I asked the very same question of the historians." The Lord General shook his head. "They had no answer. The page that held the Rift spell was taken." The words hung in the air like a cloak of dread. "I think we can make assume we know what happened?"

"Harold." The Empress breathed the name out and James felt his anger grow. His cousin, the man he had loved like a brother, had betrayed them already. He had taken his father and now he was going to try to take the world.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness." The Lord stood up straight, his own face a mask of dread. "I sent a company to check the Rift. They should be reporting back by this evening. If this is happening, we need to warn King Peter and Queen Jacqueline."

"No." James declared firmly. "We do not need them. If the Rift is open, we can handle this ourselves. I will not be dependent on those pretentious Tylers for anything."

"Prince James, that is not your decision." The Empress spoke softly, but her eyes glowed bright. "You are not yet Emperor, so do not think to overstep your station. Son or not, you are still my subject. You will heed my edicts."

James lowered his head in submission, though his every instinct warred against it.

~*~*~*~

The morning sun was warm on her skin as she notched the arrow onto the string. She drew her arm back, until the perfect tension was achieved, and steadied her hand. With a sharp twang, the arrow flew through the air and embedded itself in the heart of the wild boar snuffling at the base of the tree. The massive animal fell almost immediately and twitched its legs twice before groaning out a final sigh.

"Perfect shot Rosie!" A strong voice called from the tree above her head, and Princess Rose looked up with a smile as her personal guard swung deftly down from a branch and landed beside her. His light cotton cloak was brimming with sunapples.

"You followed me!" She tried to give him a scornful look, but she couldn't manage it. Captain Jack Harkness had been her constant companion since her thirteenth birthday. She knew as soon as she had scaled the wall from her bedroom that he would be on her trail.

"But of course." He gave a low, dramatic bow, and dumped the apples into the leather bag she had left open on the ground. "It is my job to keep her Royal Highness safe. What kind of guard would I be if I did not notice you climbing down a tower before dawn?"

"Oh shut up." She chuckled, shaking her head. "What if I was sneaking out to meet some secret lover? I do need privacy every now and again you know."

"Well, if you were coming out to meet some mysterious man, It would be my duty." He grinned mischievously at her. "To test his endurance and skills to see if he is fit to warm my Lady's bed." Jack gave her a heated wink.

"You are impossibly crass." Rose laughed and headed over to retrieve her prey. Jack beat her to it, scooping the boar up onto his shoulders. "I can carry that!" Rose protested, scowling at his back.

"You can carry the apples." Jack snickered, bumping the bag with his boot. "It is not proper for a princess to carry a bloody pig into the castle grounds."

"To hell with propriety." Rose muttered under her breath as she shouldered the bag of apples. She slid her bow back over her shoulder until it slid into its slot in her quiver.

They laughed together, heading back through the woods to the castle gardens. Rose adored her friend. Even though she was a princess, and he was a knight, he never treated her differently unless the situation dictated it. He was like an older brother to her, and she appreciated that. She did have a brother, Antony, but he was only five years old.

The sun had finally risen to a noticeable level when they slipped through the guard gate. What met their eyes was something they did not expect. A platoon of war horses took up the exercise area of the guard training yard. Rose recognized the glistening golden seals on their saddle pads. It was the Commander of Birmingham's personal entourage.

"Well that can't be good." Rose snorted looking up at her friend.

"You read my mind Princess." Jack shook his head. "Let's take this to the kitchen and see what the maids know."

"The maids know everything." Rose smiled as they headed across the grass to the open door in the side of the white stone walls.

They had just stepped into the steamy room when Mickey, her father's squire cam dashing in the opposite side. "Princess, the King told me to tell you that you are needed in the War Room immediately." He drew in a deep breath and darted back out of the room.

Rose looked at the stunned maids as Jack passed the boar off to one of the butcher boys. "After you, Your Highness." He muttered with a gestured.

"You've got blood on your cloak." Rose pointed out, as she set her things down in the corner of the kitchen and headed up the winding stairs to the second floor. The guards outside of the doors opened them wordlessly as the pair passed into the room.

Commander Harriet Jones stood beside the King and Queen at the massive war table. "Rose! Jack!" The Queen exclaimed rushing over to flutter her hands anxiously over them. "You're both alright. Where were you?"

"Hunting." Rose explained, gesturing down at her tight leather pants and green tunic. "We're having boar for dinner."

"You are not to leave the castle grounds again, with or without Jack." Her father growled. "Come over here, now."

Rose felt Jack bristle behind her as they made their way to the faded maps. "What happened, Father?" She queried, her eyes taking in the outlines of their Kingdom and of the Empire of Gallifrey to the north.

"What has that thrice blasted Rasillon done now?" Jack's voice was low and threatening. "If you'll let me, I'll bring his head back on a spike."

"The Emperor is dead." Queen Jacqueline sighed, gesturing to a small bit of paper unfolded on the map. "We received word this morning. The Empress Idris now holds the throne."

"Then I'll bring you her head." Rose snorted, fingering the dagger in her belt. "She cannot threaten our country."

"Gallifrey is not the threat." Commander Harriet spoke now. "We are facing something far worse." She gestured to one of her soldiers who was standing near the window. He passed her a scarlet bag tied with yellow twine. "Over the last week, two of our mountain villages have been attacked. One here." She pointed to a dot on the map. "Was laid to waste. Not a single person survived." She pointed to another. "This one here lost half the village before a passing party of soldiers rode into town seeking supplies and saved them."

Harriet set the sack on the table and began untying the strings. "Our soldiers said they had never seen such senseless slaughter. The things that attacked, eight of them, were supernaturally strong. They ripped hearts straight out of chests as if they were nothing." She slowly began unwrapping the velvet cloth. "They managed to kill two, before the rest fled back into the mountains. This is what we are fighting."

The final scrap of material peeled away to see the most grotesque thing Rose had ever laid eyes on. Deep in her mind, the instincts of the Wolf, her warrior spirit, stirred. "What in the name of the Sunraisers is that?" She gasped. Everything about the deformed face before her made her body on edge. The Wolf growled in her mind words like abomination, demon, and hellbringer.

"The scholars say this is a Dalek." King Pete spoke quietly.

"Ghost stories." Jack scoffed haughtily, crossing his arms. "Shadow tales for fall nights. The Daleks died out centuries ago, when they were locked behind the Rift in the wastes of Skaro."

"Apparently not." The Queen finally spoke again, her eyes narrowed in wariness. "My tutor had a history book on the Nightmare War, and this exact painting was in the texts."

"We are awaiting a squadron I sent to the Rift to scout the area." Commander Harriet began rewrapping the skull. "We will see what they report back."

"You know what this means?" Rose finally spoke, after listening to the musings of her Wolf. "If the rift is open, if they have returned, we need to reach out to Gallifrey."

"I'd rather be drawn and quartered." Jack huffed from behind her back. "Than seek the help of those egotistical, pretentious, spell casters."

"As would I." Rose clenched her fists against the leather of her breeches. Just the thought of allying herself with the arrogant leaders to the north made her battle sight flare to life.

 


	3. Alliances Proposed

"Your Highness." A soft voice woke James from his sleep. "Your Highness, wake up." He stirred under his heavy blankets, kicking them away. He barely felt the chill in the deep night air, as accustomed as he was to the climate of his country. He pulled on a pair of fur lined loafers and tied his heavy dressing robe around his waist.

"Come in Martha." He called, snapping his fingers at the dark lamp beside his bed. Sparks flew from his fingers onto the charred wick, and it blazed to life.

The door creaked open and the woman peeked around the door. Upon seeing him decent, she opened the door wider. Martha Jones was healing mage, under the private tutelage of his mother. "Your mother wishes you to join her in her study. The Lord General has returned." She gave a quick curtsy and closed the door.

James groaned. If it were good news, they would not have woken him. He stripped off his dressing gown and pulled a heavy woolen jumper over his bare torso and stepped into a a pair of heavy dark trousers. He pulled on a pair of heavy black boots, and with an afterthought, snagged his iron and platinum single band crown from its cushion on his dressing table.

The hallways were dark as he made his way across the residential wing of the castle to the doors of the Empress' study. His mother was seated behind her desk, her hair down and loose, held back by a delicate diadem of silver and sapphires. She hadn't even taken time to do more than wrap a fur robe around her silken night gown. She looked utterly exhausted, and her eyes were red and puffy from more than lack of sleep.

"Mother." He whispered, edging into the room and coming around the desk to kneel by her arm. "What's wrong?" James reached a finger to brush a tear away from her eye. His father had been a hard and stern man, and while James had loved and respected him, it was nothing compared to the bond he held with his mother. Seeing her so distraught made him want to rip the stars from heaven and put them back into her eyes.

"The mages who went to the Rift." She choked, taking his hand and resting her cheek in his rough palm. "They're all missing. Their horses returned to Arcadia covered in blood."

"Oh no." His heart sank heavily as he looked up. The Lord General was coming in from the balcony, a mirror in his hand.

"We've just received word from a trading post on the border." He shook his head. "The Powell Kingdom has been attacked as well. They lost a whole village and half of another."

"Have they requested a meeting?" James stood, his hand moving up to his mother's shoulder.

"King and Queen Tyler have not yet reached out to us." The Empress sighed and stood.

"We are not initiating contact." James scoffed. "Mother, trust me on this. If we go to them for aid, they will turn the tables so that we will suffer the brunt of the loss. We must wait for them to reach out to us." The Powell kingdom had not been lenient in years with the restricted access they gave to the coast, but in turn, Gallifrey had begun increasing the cost of imported lumber and furs.

"I agree with the Prince." The Lord General nodded. "We need to broker a truce that will be long lasting and result in equal effort in the days to come."

"I know that." The Empress sighed. "I just never thought that I'd see this war renewed in my life, nor yours James." She came around the desk to stare out the glass doors to the cold night sky above. "I just want what is best for my people."

The covered mirror on the wall above the roaring fireplace began to glisten beneath the opaque cloth. The trio turned, their eyes drawn to the light.

The Empress waved two fingers, and golden dust spiraled from her hand. The tendrils wrapped around the cover and pulled it into a neat pile in a nearby chair. The silver glass shimmered like a disturbed pool. Martha's face was visible there. "Your Majesty, your Highness." She dipped her chin in a nod. "King and Queen Tyler are requesting an audience."

"Give me a moment." The Empress grimaced looking down at her clothes.

"I've got it, Mother." James dashed into the chamber attached which was her room. He located a thick blue cloak, trimmed with white and black snowlion fur, and hurried back into the room. He watched as she fastened it with shaking fingers over her garments. Seeing her so disturbed sent chills down his spine.

"Leave us, James." She finally spoke to him, yet she couldn't meet his eyes. "Please, just go. I'll come find you when this is over."

"As you wish, my Empress." James bowed curtly at the waist. He pulled the heavy door open and almost ran into a pile of red hair and purple flannel.

"Whoops." Donna righted them both as the door pulled shut.

"It is terribly impolite to listen at keyholes." James chortled, draping an arm protectively over her shoulder.

"Says the man who used to boost me up to look into the Royal counsel window every meeting day." She quipped back with a grin. "What is going on. I only caught the last part." She hissed as they made their way back to his chambers. "What could King Peter want? Are we going to war?"

"You aren't going to believe it when I tell you." James shook his head and waved her into the room. He kicked off his boots and threw himself onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"Try me." Donna retorted, settling herself onto the large sofa under his window. "And take off that crown. You look like an idiot."

"I could have you flailed for that." James rolled his eyes, but sat up and pulled it off. He twirled it between his fingers for a moment. "The Daleks have returned, Donna." May as well be blunt about it.

"What are we, nine?" Donna scoffed, helping herself to the decanter of raywhiskey imported from the coast. "What's next, the mountain wisps have begun snatching infants from their cradles?"

"Donna! I'm being serious." James rolled over onto his side to stare at his cousin. "We sent scouts to the Rift, but they disappeared. Their horses arrived to Arcadia this evening covered in blood." As much as he loved her sardonic view of the world, this was a serious matter.

"Bloody Stardrops." She met his eyes, and orange flames danced in her irises. "But the Rift? Is it sealed? It has to be sealed! Nobody would be mad enough to-." Her voice trailed off as James gave her a knowing look. There was only one man insane enough to try. "Harold bloody Saxon." She whispered. "He wouldn't."

"We have no idea what he would do." James sat up, crossing his legs and rubbed his face. "Now my mother is brokering a treaty with Powell. They've been assaulted too."

"You should be there for that!" Donna exclaimed, setting down her drink. "Why aren't you in there?! You're the Crown Prince!"

James agreed with her there. He knew why his mother forbade it. He was hot tempered and held no fondness at all for the Tylers. He respected them and was courteous to their trade advisers, but if he had his way, he'd never combine forces with them. "She thinks I'll be too rude." He explained.

"Well you are rude." Donna gave a decidedly un-ladylike snort. "I could never decide who was more bullheaded, you or your father." She crossed her fingers over her heart and murmured. "May the stars keep him."

The pair lapsed into silence. James stared out the window, watching the clouds gather over the Northern Peak. The moon reflected brightly off the snowcapped mountains, refracting its light onto the forest below. Frost was beginning to gather on the edges of the glass panes, and it gave a fairy like quality to the night beyond. Donna was staring at the fireplace, making the dying embers dance and crackle with the absentminded twirl of her fingers.

A firm knock came on the door, and they both turned. "It's open." James called, stretching his legs out and letting them dangle over the bed. Donna ceased her fireplay and pulled her purple robe tighter around her.

The door swung open, and Empress Idris came slowly into the room. Donna jumped to her feet and executed a low curtsy. "Your Majesty." The wood closed silently, and as James rose to bow, he felt like it was the door sealing in a tomb.

"Your Majesty." James straightened himself as his mother's gentle hand touched his strong jaw. The look on her face only confirmed that he would not like what was coming.

"Please sit." She sighed, patting the bed. He did as instructed, the cold night settling in his bones like deep winter ice.

"I'll take my leave." Donna murmured, edging to the door.

"Stay." His mother settled herself by James'. "He's going to need a friend." She gestured to the other side of the mattress. "Please dispense with formalities, Donna. You're family."

Donna nodded and took her spot next to him, and James could feel the warmth of her magic warring with the chill on his skin. "What have you done, Mother?" He asked, trying to get her to meet his eyes.

"A truce guaranteed to secure an alliance." She finally looked up. "We had to be certain that they would not abandon us, you have to understand that." His mother's eyes were wet with tears. "We need their armies, their trade routes, and their war experience. They need our magic, our lumber, and our knowledge." She swallowed hard and took his hands. "It was the only thing I could think of that would mean an unwavering alliance, and I do not expect you to be happy. I am sorry that this is how it must be, but there is no other way."

"Just tell us Auntie." Donna pleaded before James could speak. Not for the first time,

James was grateful for her bluntness and her friendship. He squeezed his mother's fingers. He knew what was coming, before the words left her mouth. He could see it in her eyes as she gazed at his disheveled bed and discarded crown on his pillow. The ice settled into his stomach as surging anger flooded his mind. Not anger at his mother, but anger at what was coming.

"You are to marry Princess Rose. We will be meeting them in Arcadia in one week for the handfasting." His mother met his eyes unflinchingly. He understood why. It was the most calculated move she could have made. Bringing the Princess into their lineage meant that if the Powell kingdom abandoned Gallifrey then they abandoned her.

"If my Empress commands it of me." James lifted her hand to his lips, pressing them against the sapphire signet ring on her right hand. "Then I shall do it."

~*~*~*

"This is insane!" Rose howled, spinning her sword in her hand as she faced off with Jack. "Me, married, can you even begin to imagine that?" She lunged forward, only to be blocked by his shield.

"I have a few times." Jack huffed, pushing her sword away and lunging for her leg. She blocked it with the flat of her own blade and pulled back. "Well, mostly just of your wedding night." He circled around her, his smirk barely visible behind the mouth guard of his helmet.

"Lecher." Rose snorted spotting an opening on his left side. Her blade struck his padding with a thud. "I could have you flogged for saying that." She smiled as he flinched back for a moment, conceding the strike before taking his stance. "Two for me." She raised an eyebrow.

"But then who would you oggle at the lake." Jack laughed, bringing his blade to her her leg. She failed to block it, and huffed as her muscle absorbed what the pads did not.

Rose channeled the strength of the Wolf to keep her leg from buckling, and struck back using her shield and sword in tandem to drive him back. He collided with wooden wall behind him, and she shoved the shield into his chest. "I never oggle anyone, Harkness." She sneered, slamming her hilt into his sword hand. "I win." She raised an eyebrow at him as his sword clattered to the ground.

Jack rolled his eyes and leaned forward to lick her cheek sloppily. He laughed as she stumbled back, dropping her shield to wipe her cheek on the back of her glove.

"Oh my gods, ew!" Rose yelped, glaring at him. Sometimes he could be a total prat, and he knew it. "You are absolutely disgusting." She ripped off her helmet, letting her long blonde braid fall free down her back. "I think I need to go soak in a salt bath now." She saw his mouth opening and raised her finger. "Don't even say it." She warned and closed her eyes. With a deep breath she soothed the Wolf back into sleep.

"I won't." Jack retrieved his sword and scooped up her shield. "Come on, your mother said she needed you to meet with the seamstress after training."

Rose groaned and felt the slow burning anger that had been eating at her since last night blaze brighter. "I do not want to do this." She knew she was complaining, but he was the only one she could tell. "I absolutely loathe the snow." They made their way to the armory and deposited their gear with the squires. Then together they washed the sweat from their skin with the lavender water sitting in basins.

"I know you hate them." Jack said, tightening the strings on the back of her tunic. "But this is for the best Rose. They can't abandon us or harm you, or we cut off their trade routes and withdraw our soldiers." He spun her around and settled her delicate diadem onto her head, then pulled her into a tight hug. "I wish there was some way I could save you from this."

Rose let him hold her for just a moment, feeling her first bout of fear trickling into her chest. "You'll come with me, right?" She mumbled into his shirt. "Jack, you're my best friend and closest adviser. Please don't let me go alone."

Jack pulled back and tugged an errant curl to get her to look up. "Princess, eleven years ago I swore my life to keep you safe. Do you honestly believe I would ever let you wander into the hands of Gallifrey without me there to protect you?" His normally jovial eyes were heavy with sincerity. "I would walk through the fires of Skaro and back if it meant you would be safe." Jack kissed her diadem and rubbed her upper arms. "Now, enough with gloomy thoughts and doubts, let us go see what the Queen and the seamstresses have planned."

Rose nodded, trying not to sniffle at the blessing of a friend that the fates had seen fit to put in her life. "What do you think he looks like?" She finally found something to distract her mind from the doom hanging heavy over the land.

"From what some of the female trade adviser have said, he's very handsome." Jack offered. "Tall, a bit dark and broody, very serious, and eyes like the winter sky." He bumped her shoulder playfully. "Sounds like my type of man."

"Your type of man is anything breathing." Rose retorted. "You'll have no trouble keeping your bed warm during a blizzard." It was true. Jack was handsome, and it was rare to find a single person immune to his charms. He had even made the Queen blush during dance or two. Rose was one of the rare few. She had harbored a teenage crush when they first met, but it had swiftly developed into a friendship that overshadowed any attraction she had once held.

They found the Queen in Rose's suite, surrounded by bolts of fabric and the castle seamstresses. Rose groaned inwardly at the sight of multiple corsets splayed out on her couch. "I'll wait outside." Jack murmured, giving her a shove through the door. "Good luck."

Rose rolled her neck and straightened her posture as she made her way over to the women. "Really Mother? You know I hate corsets."

"It's tradition." Jackie replied pulling her into a hug. "Please, Rose. Don't make this anymore difficult than it already is." She sighed into her daughter's neck.

"Please don't cry, Mum." Rose felt guilt wash through her. She had been so caught up in her own misery she hadn't even considered the pain her parents must be feeling. "I know I have to do this." She kissed her mother's cheek and began toeing off her boots.

A few handmaids rushed forward and began peeling her clothes from her. Rose looked around at the various garments. Heavy pants lined with seal fur. Skirts made of thick velvet and layers of flannel and cotton underneath. Coats and cloaks designed to ward off the bitter cold of the winter she would be facing in a few short weeks. She wasn't wearing any of it, but she already felt the suffocating layers dragging her down. Then her eyes found it, being unwrapped and flared out. Her wedding dress. She knew it, recognized it from her anointing ceremony two years prior.

On her twenty first birthday, per holy tradition, she had donned a white and golden dress and presented herself at the temple of the Sun. The priests and priestesses had prayed over her, anointing her with sea water and holy oil, asking the gods to bless her with wisdom, strength, and goodness. Then her father had crowned her heiress. All of that was gone now, little Tony would be king of Powell. She was to one day be Empress of Gallifrey. Rose prayed that the gods understood why she must do this.

Rose swallowed back her own sorrow and anger, letting her love for her people fill her. Somewhere in the lonely recesses of her thoughts, a wolf howled mournfully.

 


	4. Vows That Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit long. It will also be the last chapter than shifts from POV to POV unless they are separated.

The week leading up the wedding had held one more attack on each country, and as James stood at the mirror straightening the stiff black coat he felt a longing to be preparing for war with his mages. It irked him to no end that he was not being permitted to join his own people in defense of their land.

It was only due to royal precautions that he could not ride out to the mountains of Cardiff and put his powers to use. He was the only heir to the throne, and unless his wedding night resulted in a child, there was no way he would be joining in the conflict. Instead he would be assisting with training the apprentice battle mages.

For now, James was preparing to engage in another type of warfare. He pulled the heavy red robe from the hook beside the mirror, letting the red material run through his hands. He snapped it heavily onto his shoulders, and fastened the chain around his neck. There was a knock at the door, and he turned. "Come in!"

The door opened slowly exposing his grandfather, Wilfred Mott. The kind man was standing just inside the door, with a a bottle in one hand, and a heavy golden box in the other. "Oh my boy." Wilf shook his head softly. "You look so much like your father did when he married my baby girl."

"Minus the adoring lovestruck smile." James forced himself to chuckle. He knew what was coming, and crossed the room to kneel on one knee before him. This, by all rights, should have been Rasillon's duty, but he was buried and gone. Since James' paternal grandfather had died years before he was born, the tradition fell to Wilfred.

His grandfather set the box down and opened the bottle. The aroma of moonlilies filled the room, and James closed his eyes. Wilf dipped his finger in the oil and traced the circular patterns of their language onto his hair. One symbol for fidelity, another for gentleness, and the third for fertility. Then James felt the cold weight of the traditional marriage crown settle onto his scalp. Then his grandfather clapped him on his shoulders. "Up you get my boy." His voice was shaky with emotion.

James stood, and smiled down at the man. "Thank you, Granddad." He turned to the mirror and adjusted his robe again. The heavy crown drew his eyes up. It was simple, burnished silver and platinum. The edges were polished to a shine that caught the sunlight through the window. His people traditionally had weddings at night, with the rising of the moon, but they had agreed to a mid afternoon ceremony to accommodate his bride.

His bride, the two words hammered through his mind eliciting the anger he had been trying hard to keep suppressed. His reflection showed the lightning spark in his eyes and dance from his fingertips. The familiar taste of ozone coated his tongue. "I need a drink." He mumbled, catching his grandfather's concerned eyes in the mirror.

"Believe me, son, every man feels that way on his wedding day." Wilf laughed opening the door. "Now, your mother is waiting for you to greet the Queen."

James gave him a wry smile and stepped into the hallway. His ceremonial entourage was waiting in the hall of the temple, and he paused to let them straighten out his cloak behind them. With a roll of his shoulders, he squared his frame and strode confidently down the halls.

At the entrance to the ceremonial hall, he spotted his mother, garbed in silver and blue, speaking with a woman shorter than her and a bit more full in the hips and waist. She had yellow hair, sunwashed skin, and a spattering of freckles across her cheeks. An intricate coronet of gold and rubies adorned the waves of her hair. There was no mistaking her as anyone other than Queen Jacqueline.

Clutching to the golden folds of her dress was a small boy of about five, wearing black pants, a golden shirt, and a thin golden band holding back his cornsilk colored hair. At his waist was a jeweled scabbard that held a tiny dagger no bigger than a letter opener. He was young, but even James could tell that he would grow to be a striking man with the skilled battle prowess of his people.

Prince Antony's green eyes blew wide in awe as James approached them. He couldn't help but feel his lips twitch up in ghost of smile at the tentative smile of the tot. James paused before the women, bowing low to his mother to kiss her knuckles, and then gave another bow, though nowhere near as deep to Queen Jacqueline.

"Jacqueline, might I present my son, Prince James Asher Meállan Whitestar." Empress Idris gave a dazzling smile to the Queen. "James, allow me to introduce Queen Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler."

"My pleasure to make your acquaintance." James lied through a smile. "It is an honor to have you here on this day blessed by the gods of the North and of the South." Blessings would be if her daughter was just a bit more fair than she. She wasn't ugly, but James could find nothing in her appearance that would strike him as attractive either. If he was being forced to marry a woman, he was sure the gods wouldn't mind if he was a bit shallow minded.

"King Peter would have joined with us, but he is doing the ritual blessings and prayers over the Princess." Queen Jacqueline gave a feigned smile, and behind her eyes he saw a glimmer of sympathy to his mother. The same look filled the Empress' eyes. They had at least one thing in common, concern for their children and their countries.

"I bet Captain Jack had to keep Rosie from climbing out of the window again." Little Tony piped up with a mischievous grin.

James raised an eyebrow down at the boy. "Is that something your sister does often?" He queried, knowing full well he was breaking etiquette.

"Only when she wants to go hunting without her handmaidens chasing after her." Prince Antony grinned wider. "She's a really good huntress. You should have seen the boar she brought home last week. It was almost as big as my pony!"

"Antony, enough." Queen Jacqueline chastised the boy just as James gave out a bark of laughter. So his bride to be was going to be a handful. At least he was forewarned. He was eternally grateful for the unbridled tongues of children.

A priest opened the doors and informed them it was time to come inside. Falling back into appropriate behavior, he extended one arm to each of the ruling ladies and ushered them into the cathedral. At the altar, each woman released his arms and made their way to their appropriate seats. Once they were settled, James took his position at the base of the steps to the altar.

It was an odd juxtaposition of decor. The silvers and blues of his Empire, interspersed with the scarlet of his family seal mirrored the golds, greens, and and crimson of the Powell kingdom were mottled with the light refracting through the stained glass windows.

Slowly citizens of both countries filed into the room, taking up the wooden pews. Knights and mages stood in pattern around the outer walls. The doors closed shut for just a moment, before a new knight, his armor gleaming brightly opened the door. His helmet was off, and his brown hair was combed to perfection. He was strikingly handsome, James had to admit, and on his chest plate was a golden wolf holding a single rose in his teeth, the symbol of the Princess.

He had a trumpet in his hand, and a white cloth hung from his shoulders like a cloak. The knight blew a fanfare as he made his way down the aisle, and the white cloth followed him, lining the stone floor in opaque silk. If James' history lessons served him any good, it was the declaration of the Princess' first marriage. As the knight came toe to toe with him, he lowered the trumpet.

The man met James' eye with cold confidence, and he knew in an instant that this was the Princess' blood sworn guardian. The knight raised his hand to his throat and unclasped a golden chain. He passed the cloth under his arm and knelt to place it on the stones. Then he stepped to the left, crossed an arm over his chest, and bowed to James before turning to stride over to stand beside Donna, who was positioned by the wall.

As if a silent signal was given, everyone rose to their feet and turned to the open doors. James' eyes followed theirs, and he swallowed as King Peter and Princess Rose stepped into the archway.

Her face was covered by a golden veil, signifying her purity, and her dress flowed down her form. The bodice was white, with golden beads swirling around the satin. James' was oddly reminded of his Mother's magic at the way the sun danced off of hit. Her body, at least, was pleasing. She was fit, and an ample bosom led into a delicate waist. Her hips and legs, however were hidden by a cloud of golden silk and white lace. The skirt wasn't as broad and ornate as the gowns of his people. It flowed around her, like mist after the crashing of a wave. Her arms were bared, a symbol of honesty and sincerity of her people, and even from here James could see the toned and agile muscles of an archer and experience of battling with a lightweight sword.

He met King Peter's eyes as the drew close, and nodded to the man in respect. The King lifted his daughter's right hand from his forearm, and stretched it out to the Prince. James took it in his own, and Princess Rose stepped forward so she was facing them, with the congregation to their side. He let her hand fall free, and grabbed the base of the veil in his fingers. James couldn't stop his heart from pounding in anticipation as he lifted the lace upwards to reveal his destiny. His heart skipped a beat as the most beautiful face he had ever seen was exposed to him. She had golden hair, like her mother and father, a mouth that pouted out in the most tantalizing way. On her head was a diadem that matched her mothers, only inlaid with pearls and shells.

He almost smiled until he saw the look of utter loathing in her amber eyes.

~*~*~*

Rose tried not to grimace as the Prince lifted her veil. It was hard to see him properly behind the intricate patterns of the material. When their eyes met fully for the first time, she was shocked. People had said he was handsome. Nobody has said he looked like the statue of a god. His eyes were the clearest of blue she had ever seen. Jack had said blue like the winter sky, but these eyes were blue like the summer isles' waves. His hair was dark, like the night before dawn broke, and his hand was warm and strong as it clasped her own, helping her up the stairs to the waiting priest and priestess beside the altar. Rose had, for some reason, expected it to be cold.

His black clothes accentuated his pale skin, and the rich red of his cloak reflected from his crown making it look like it were on fire. This man before her exuded the magical strength of his people in his every move. It was enthralling

That didn't mean she wanted to do this. That didn't mean she wanted to be his wife. This was duty, pure and simple. She let her eyes tell him that most sincerely. He was Gallifreyan, she was of Powell. They were not meant to be together. He was moonlight and ice. She was sunshine and sea. Either he would freeze her, or she would melt him to vapor.

Even though she was not in danger, her Wolf spirit prowled defensively in her thoughts. Every muscle in her body was tense and ready for battle. Only this was not a battle of strength. This was a battle of political power. She had no sword or bow. She had only her tongue. Her tongue which was supposed to be repeating the prayer of blessing. "I, Rose Marion Ylva Tyler, do ask the gods of the North Winds and the gods of the Southern Seas to bless my heart and mind in accordance with their laws." She repeated loudly, letting her voice carry over the congregation below.

Rose never took her eyes off the glacial orbs above her. They looked just as cold and spiteful as she felt. Good, at least they could be miserable together. She contemplated how much wine it would take to get him drunk enough to not consummate their marriage. Judging by his frame, more than would be socially acceptable at a wedding feast.

It was Prince James' turn to repeat the blessing prayer, and the burr that came out of him rolled over her like the late afternoon thunderstorms on the coast. "I, James Asher Meállan Whitestar, do ask the gods of the North Winds and the gods of the Southern Seas to bless my heart and mind in accordance with their laws."

As if in sync, they raised their hands together, her right in his left, as it would be from now until either of them died. The priest tied a gold and silver braid around their wrists, and the priestess anointed their foreheads with an intoxicating floral oil Rose had never smelled before. She would ask later what it was, because it was magnificent. When the braid was tied, it was time for their vows. James was to speak first, if she remembered their customs correctly. In Powell, the vows were said in unison, to symbolize conjoined souls. In Gallifrey, the bride and groom spoke individually, pledging themselves to each other.

"I do, before all gods, solemnly vow to protect the heart, mind, and body of my beloved. I pledge myself as her protector, to ward her from anyone would would do her harm." James never broke eye contact as his free hand came up and caressed the air around her face. Bolts of lightning sparked out of his fingers, and the smell of a summer storm filled the air. Rose felt a chilled mist tingle across her bare skin. He was warding her, quite literally. She had never seen Gallifreyan magic in person before. It was terrifying and breathtaking all at once. "I will honor and cherish her, seeking never to bring her to shame. I will love her and do all within my power to earn her love in return, so long as I reside in this realm."

Rose swallowed, taking a deep breath and trying not to shiver at the energy dancing across her skin. "I do, before all gods, solemnly vow to protect the heart, mind, and body of my beloved. I will pledge myself as the protector of his hearth, to defend his home and any children I may bear to him from danger." At this, she heard Jack step forward, and saw him, from the corner of her eye, place her bow, quiver, sword, and shield at the bottom of the altar, wrapped in the pelt of a golden wolf. Rose may not have ethereal magic, but she was a warrior. "I will honor and cherish him, seeking never to bring him shame. I will love him and do all within my power to earn his love in return, so long as I reside in this realm."

The priest and priestess stepped together behind the altar and mixed two pitchers of wine into a goblet. One, she knew, would be of the sweet grapes of her own castle vineyard. The other would be the tart snowberries from his home. Together the priest and priestess raised the vessel above them and beseeched the gods for their blessing on their marriage bed. Then they lowered the cup to Rose's lips. She swallowed one mouthful, surprised at the way the flavors meddled together in a tantalizing way. Then they offered the cup to James, and his eyes showed the same level of surprise as he swallowed.

"To sanctify this blessed union, and to symbolize your unfaltering devotion to each other." The priest proclaimed proudly.

"We ask the gods to witness the first display of your promise." The priestess finished.

Rose knew what was to happen next. It was the same in her traditions as his. She couldn't stop her tongue from darting out to dampen her lips, and she arched an eyebrow as his eyes finally broke free from hers to watch the movement. She thought she saw a flicker of amusement light up his face, but soon it was that cold mask again. His free hand found her neck, and she told her mind to let her face turn upwards.

James lowered his face to hers, moving slowly so as to give her time to prepare, she assumed. However she was already prepared. She had been prepared for a week. Their lips met softly, but then pressed together with conviction as a clap of thunder echoed over head only to be followed by the sound of a wolf pack howling in the distance. The gods, apparently, approved.


	5. Pain and Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gets a little errr i dunno, touchy feely towards the end. Loss of virginity without sex, it'll make sense when you read.

Together, Rose and James broke the kiss to the applause of the congregation. The braided rope around their wrists was undone, and with deft fingers, the priestess tied it like belt around Rose's hips.

Their wedding feast, which should have been a four day affair, was cut short to a simple meal due to the stockpiling of supplies and the urgency the citizens felt at being off the streets after dark.

James and Rose had hardly spoken to each other, as they ate. What was there to say? When the meal was finished, Rose sought out her family with her eyes. As if sensing her, her mother and father turned from their group of guards. She wanted to go to them, to tell them how much she loved them, but that would seem weak. It would not due for Prince James to see her break.

James was watching his bride. Her face, however masked she tried to make it, radiated with love for her family, and the intensity of her eyes struck him to his core. Especially when little Prince Antony broke free of his mother's grasp and dashed across the dining hall to latch his arms around his sister's waist. Whatever charade she was trying to maintain shattered.

"Please come with us, Rosie." The tiny prince pleaded. "Please don't stay here. I love you. I don't want you to go."

Rose felt her heart shatter at the despair in her brother's voice. Disregarding all rules for propriety, she knelt down and wrapped him in a fierce hug. "I have to, Tony. I know it's hard, but this is what it means to live for your people." She kissed his warm head, and knew if she held him for a moment longer she was going to break. "Jack!" She called, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

James watched as the knight stepped from the shadows behind them and hurried to Rose's side. It struck him, at that moment, that the Princess was sacrificing far more for her country than he initially thought. She was leaving her family and friends, apart from the Captain, behind. That had been her only request, that her personal guard accompany her. Neither James nor his mother had found reason to refuse that.

Rose bit the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing as Jack picked up the sobbing boy and carried him to the Queen. Her mother took Tony from him, and paused for a moment to whisper in Jack's ear and then press a kiss to the side of his helmet. Her father clasped forearms with him and looked over at Rose with apology in his eyes. Rose nodded at him, letting the King know she forgave him.

James knew, as his vows had been uttered only a few hours before, they he should do or say something to her. His normally quick witted tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and all he could do was place a hand gently on her upper back. He felt her tense under him, and half expected her to swirl around and strike him.

"Please don't touch me there." Rose hissed through her teeth at the feeling of his fingers. "You have no idea what I'm going through." As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. James had just lost his father a month ago. He knew what loss felt like. "I'm sorry, your Highness." She let the sentence fall from her tongue with as much sincerity as she could muster.

James did as she asked, lowering his hand and bringing it around to clasp her hand instead. "Please, Princess, call me James." He meant it. They were equals, both the first born of their parents, both born destined to take a throne. Now, even married, Gallifreyan customs held her as his equal.

"I'd rather not." Rose growled, not even bothering to keep the feral chuff from her voice. Once again, she half regretted it. He was trying to be kind. His mage guards were gathering around them. It was odd to her to see a protective group without armor or a plethora of weapons. Jack seemed almost out of place among them. She said almost, because the man had the ability to make himself fit in anywhere.

"As my wife, it would be odd to have you address me so formally." James tried his best not to sneer, but was nearly certain he failed. This lovely woman was going to be a handful all right. Something about her voice set the hairs on his arm upright. It took him a minute to place it, but then he remembered what he had learn about the people of Powell. Each one had an animal spirit guide that was bonded into their subconscious from birth. They had the ability to channel traits of the animal during times of great need, such as battle or emotional distress. King Peter, he remembered, was a lion. Queen Jacqueline was a hawk. Judging by the growl in her voice and the symbol on Captain Harkness' chest, hers was the wolf.

"This is a formal occasion." Rose snapped her head to look at him, her eyebrow raised in challenged. The crowd had mostly disbursed, even her father and mother were gone now. All that remained were a handful of mages, Jack, and the Empress. The Empress was making their way over to them now, with Donna close behind her. Rose curtsied low, admiring the beauty of the Empress. She was lithe and graceful, but the air around her was charged with power. She tried not to wince back as the woman cupped her chin gently.

"Welcome to Gallifrey, Princess." James smiled at how his mother was doing her best to make his new bride feel accepted. He questioned Donna with his eyes, but his cousin only shrugged. "I know how disconcerted you must feel, my child, but I assure you that we will treat you as one of our own."

Rose forced a smile as she straightened herself. The Empress seemed kind enough, and she remembered her nursemaid telling her how Idris was known throughout Gallifrey as a benevolent leader. Her compassion balancing out Rasillon's controlled reign. "I appreciate your kindness, Your Majesty." Rose tried her best to keep her voice open and friendly, but every fiber of her being told her she was surrounded by adversaries. It was driven into her from the day she was born. Gallifreyans were cold, like their deadly winters. They were not to be trusted. As if sensing her discomfort, the Empress dropped her hand, and nodded.

James felt Rose's nails dig into the back of his hand as his mother gestured Donna forward. Had this been any other woman at his side, he would have brushed his thumb across hers in an attempt to loosen her grip. However, this was Princess Rose, and he was not going to let her think she could muscle her way over him. Instead he pressed his thumb into the meaty joint between her thumb and forefinger to show he was aware of the quiet battle for dominance.

"This is the Lady Donna, my niece." The Empress explained. "Starting now, she will helping you settle into our country." Donna looked as ruffled as Rose felt at this unplanned event. "Until, of course, you find suitable handmaidens of your own choosing."

"Thank you, your Majesty." Rose was growing tired of the formalities already, and wanted nothing more than to retire to her room. Except that meant she'd be alone with James. "Thank you, Lady Donna." Her eyes found Jack, watching them warily. He looked like he wanted to butt in, but was far outranked.

James watched the silent exchange with Rose and her guard. He knew that look, as he often felt that way himself. He too was growing mentally tired of the thees and thous of the day. "Perhaps, Captain Harkness and Lady Donna could escort the Princess and me to our chamber." He smiled to Rose as relief settled onto her shoulders. "Donna can help the Princess ready for bed, and I can show the good captain the layout."

"Of course, James." The Empress smiled once more. "I shall retire as well." With that, she turned easily and exited the dining hall with the remaining mages except Donna.

Rose wanted to release James' hand, but it was keeping him from seeing her shake. Jack was at her side almost immediately. "I already had your immediate effects sent to your chambers." He assured her. "As well as your weapons."

"Thank you Jack." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Really, thank you."

James watched them converse quietly, and was surprised at the tiny bit of jealousy towards the man. He pushed it away immediately, he may not know Rose, but she didn't seem the type to risk her country's safety. "This way." He cleared his throat. He expected Rose to drop his hand, but she was not loosening her grip. He'd have tiny crescent scabs on his had in the morning. He led them down the halls to the private residential area of the temple. Here is where they would stay the night, but just after breakfast, they would be speeding back to Tardis.

Rose felt like every string connecting her life to her past was being severed away as they walked down the stone corridors. When they paused before a heavy door, she saw Jack and James have a wordless conversation with their eyes. She knew exactly what was being communicated. Jack wanted to check the bedroom for safety purposes. She counted her breaths until he came back to hold the door wide, and then stepped past him dropping James'

The room was chilly. At the most southern major city, she could feel the oncoming winter. Donna followed her in the door and helped her over to a changing screen. The ginger woman was gentle and soft spoken as she began unfastening Rose's dress. "I can place a protection spell on the gown.."

James heard Donna from the other side of the screen as Jack crossed his arms across his chest and glowered at him. "What?" He asked, shedding his ceremonial cloak and snapping his fingers. The cloak folded itself on a chair.

"Nothing, Your Highness." Jack replied, and Rose could hear the loathing in his voice.

"Thank you." She whispered to Donna as the woman waved a hand over the material until it was wrapped in light. Then the heavy gown rose up to a dress hanger, and settled on a hook. The smell of fire wafted around them. Rose finally felt a genuine smile break through at the woman who looked bursting with questions. "I'll admit, that was really entertaining." She whispered to the woman.

"You've never seen magic?" Donna whispered back. Rose shook her head. "You'll see more, promise."

James heard Donna finishing up with Rose, and soon his cousin stepped around the screen and tugged Jack's elbow. He smirked at his spirited cousin as the knight yanked his arm free, and followed her from the room. When the door slammed closed, James heard the sound of feet from behind him. Rose stepped around the screen, her face a blank as as a wall. A nearly transparent white gown hung from the edges of her shoulders to the floor. It clung to her curves, accentuating her supple hips and powerful thighs. "You look lovely." He offered tentatively. Never in his life had he felt awkward around a woman, and while he had never actually taken a woman fully to bed. He had given and received pleasure in his youth. Judging by the anxious look in her eyes, her veil was not just for show.

Rose shivered under his gaze. She fought hard to keep her guard up, but it was hard when she was so cold. The thin material did nothing to warm her from the chilly air. At his compliment, she bit back a retort. It wouldn't do to make this day any worse and she knew it. She simply had to bit her lip and close her eyes. It would be over soon.

"Are you cold?" James' voice was gentle as he watched her.

"Yes, a bit." She admitted, there was no hiding it. She felt the soft material stretched over the peaks of her breast, and it wasn't in arousal.

"I can help with that." James watched her cautiously as he snapped his fingers at the wood filled fireplace. The lumber inside sparked to life, and it lit up the awe in Rose's face. Finally, when the warmth reached her, he was graced with her first genuine smile, all be it, small.

Rose moved closer to the fire, even though it meant closer to her new husband. He had only shed his cloak so far, and she was acutely aware of the unfair imbalance of layers. "Aren't you going to change?" She asked, watching him curiously. His handsome face seemed confused for a moment, as his eyes danced over her own.

"Right, of course." For the first time a blush tinted his pale cheeks. "Silly me, I'll be right back."

James darted behind the screen and began peeling at his clothes. A pair of his loose sleep pants was folded neatly beside the intricate sandals she must have been wearing under her wedding gown. When he came back out, she was chugging a goblet of wine. "Well that is extremely lady like." He barked out a laugh as she choked.

Rose barely managed to keep from spilling the red courage down her nightdress, if one could call it that. She felt her own cheeks flush as she offered him the goblet. "Thirsty?" She chuckled nervously. Normally she was not one for drink. It clouded her mind and dimmed her connection to the Wolf, but tonight she needed it.

"Yes actually." James took the goblet from her, and he tried not to shiver himself as his power sparked wild at the feel of her fingers under his. He finished it off, watching her make her way around the bed. She turned down the blankets and frowned at the white sheets underneath. "Not to your liking?" He asked.

"No, they're fine." Rose replied, running her fingers over the luxurious cloth. They were just as soft as the ones on her bed back home. "Gorgeous really." She steeled herself, trying to remember what Jack had coached her on about getting a man ready for consummation. She climbed onto the high bed, kneeling delicately on the sheets. Her gown pooled around her legs, almost blending in with the fabric. She fought to keep her face light and inviting, but knew she probably just looked sick.

James watched his new bride, her face twisted in thought. He would have given every golden coin in the royal vault to know what was going through her head at that moment. Probably everything going through his, anxiety, dread, and even his less manly fear of his inability to perform adequately. He set the empty goblet down on the fireplace mantle and crossed the room to the bed in a determined stride. He joined her, his knees folded under himself, so he would be even with her.

Rose watched him move, and forced herself to look over his bare chest and arms. He was even more attractive like this, and had the situation been any other, she would happily have thrown herself at him. For the first time since she learned how to swing a sword and fire a bow, she felt like prey. It was not a feeling that sat well with her or the wine stupored shewolf who resides in her soul. She drew a breath and reached out a hand to touch his chest. She froze as he held his breath and covered her hand with his own.

James saw the decision fall into place behind her eyes, and it hurt him a bit inside. A woman so powerful, so proud, so free should not look so utterly defeated. It did not suit her features in the least. He wondered if his face held the same look, but welcomed her lips when she pressed them to his own. The taste of wine was still heavy on her tongue as it stroked against his. She was, at least, an experienced kisser.

James held her hand to his chest, letting her feel the racing drumbeat of his own heart, as he reached out with his free hand to cup her face delicately. When she didn't flinch back, he slid his fingers into her long hair and stroked the back of her neck.

Rose forced herself to relax into his touch. He was being gentle, and for that she was thankful. She had expected him to be demanding and domineering, much like the few suitors she had experienced back home. It was obvious that he was as hesitant as she. She let her eyes flutter shut and moved closer to him on the bed, moving her free hand to grasp his side and steady herself.

James released her hand at his chest, as her touch grew more exploratory. He moved his fingers to her hip and pulled her into his lap as he adjusted his position on the bed. Her lips still moved against his, every so often sucking or pulling with her teeth at his bottom lip. He was a healthy man, so his body reacted as expected. Only, the hesitancy he still sensed in her kept him from reaching his total arousal.

Rose felt him stirring beneath her. Their thin clothing did not allow for much disguise. She groaned inwardly and laid back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. She traced her hands up and around his back, unsure of what to do with them. She broke free of his lips to plant a gentle kiss on his collarbone, then rested her head back to look into his eyes. Jack had told her that men love eye contact during sex, so that's what she would do. "I think I'm ready." She breathed as seductively as she could manage.

James gasped heavily as he pressed into her. Her body was so pliant beneath his touch. Too pliant, he realized. This wasn't the surrender of need. This was the surrender of defeat. His blue eyes found her whisky ones, and he saw it there. The spark of defiance had gone. Her words were hollow between them. He lowered his head to the pillow beside her and sighed softly. "No." He whispered in her ear, and placed a gentle kiss to her hair. "Not like this." With every ounce of control he could manage, he rolled off of her to lay on his back. He couldn't force himself on her, not matter how convincing she thought her acting skills were.

"We have to." Rose yelped, pushing herself up to stare at him. "James, we have to."

"No, Rose." He shook his head up at her. "I won't do that to you." Her golden hair had fallen in her face, and he reached up to tuck it behind her ear. "I can't do that to you. It isn't right."

"You don't understand, you bloody idiot!" Rose threw her hands up in exasperation. "The maids will check the sheets in the morning. They'll report it back to my parents and your mother." For someone from a country so steeped in study, her husband was really daft. Sweet, but daft.

"I don't understand?" James was legitimately confused. He blamed it on the blood rush to the lower portion of his body. What could the maids possibly check on the sheets to report back?

"You've never made love to a virgin before?" Rose bit back a giggle. She wasn't sure how things worked in Gallifrey, but back home in Powell, only Princesses were required by law to remain untouched.

"Never actually made love to a woman before, at all." James pushed himself up, raising an eyebrow at her giggles. The statement seemed to have her in a laughing fit. "What's so funny?!" He almost yelped, but kept his voice down. The term blushing bride was taking on a whole new meaning as he watched her.

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you." Rose shook her head and covered her mouth and took a breath to keep from laughing. "When a woman loses her virginity, she bleeds. The maids will check the sheets for blood." Watching the understanding burst to life in his eyes set her off giggling again, her hand covering her mouth again to keep herself muffled.

"I see." James couldn't help but chuckle right along with her. He reached out to move her hand from her lips. "Your smile is beautiful, don't hide it from me please." He was treated to a broader grin that lit up her face, and her tongue peeked out at the corner of her mouth between her teeth. It was, he had to admit, the most endearing thing he'd seen her do thus far. "I still can't do it. I can't just watch you lay there and be miserable."

Rose shook her head at James. It was surprising how concerned he was for her feelings, but it didn't solve their dilemma. "We have to. If we don't do it now, and do it later, someone will notice." His eyes were narrowed in thought, like he was working a complex sum.

"I think I have a solution." James gave her a hesitant look. It wasn't the most feasible of solutions, but he couldn't bring himself to do what duty required. "If you want to try it."

"What?" Rose couldn't figure out how he could possibly have come to a solution if she hadn't. "Out with it." She insisted. She was exhausted, grumpy, and wanted nothing more than to get this over with and sleep it off.

"Lie back." James instructed her, and he watched as she hesitantly obeyed his soft command. He rolled over her, positioning his knees between her legs and pushing her gown up. He waited until he was sure she wasn't going to jerk away. "I'll try to do it quickly, okay?"

Rose nodded, watching his hands as he moved them along her thighs. She was utterly confused as to what he was planning until warm fingers cupped her at the apex of her thighs. They parted the curls there, and trailed inquisitively along the sensitive skin there. "What are you doing?" She gasped, her thighs clenching at his caress.

"You weren't anywhere near ready." James huffed, feeling how little slickness was present. This would not work like this. He slid his hand from under the gown and popped two fingers between his lips. The look on her face at his sudden bold movements made him wink at her. Once his fingers were as wet as he could mange, he quickly positioned them at the tight entrance.

Rose tried her best to relax her muscles, but her body seemed over sensitized to his touch. Her heart pounded in fearful anticipation as she felt pressure. James leaned down, proffering his muscular shoulder to her lips. "Bite down." He murmured. "On the count of five." Rose squeezed her eyes shut and caught his skin between her teeth. "One, two, three."

Before he reached four, he slid his fingers in swiftly. Something taunt and flexible blocked their passage, but he kept pushing until he felt it break. Sharp pain lit up his mind as Rose's teeth dug into his skin. She yelped against his shoulder, whimpering and bucking underneath him. James pulled his fingers back and pushed in again until he felt warm liquid coat them.

Rose released his shoulder with a gasp. The pain was already fading, but a dull ache throbbed as he climbed from the bed to retrieve one of the cloths from a wash basin. He wiped his fingers clean and then came back on the bed and silently offered it to her.

Rose took it, blinking numbly at him. The man was a genius, she wanted to run him through with her sword at this moment, but a genius. "That's a valid solution." She winced, taking the rag and tucking it under her gown.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." James whispered as he turned the lamps down around the room. Soon the fire place was the only light. He climbed back onto the bed and pulled the blankets over them. He tried to give her distance.

"No need to apologize." Rose whispered back, snuggling into her pillow with her back to him. She stared out the window at the half moon and stars. Already the night was chilling her again, and she missed the warmth and humidity of home. The miles of land that separated her from the Estate was almost as vast as the few inches of tension between her back and James. The lack of ocean waves was the loudest silence she had ever experienced.

James stared at the ceiling listening to the sounds of the dying fire and Rose's breathing. It felt like an ocean between them, and when she spoke, it was so soft he barely heard her. "I'm cold again."

He immediately rolled onto his side and captured her waist in his arms. With a strong pull, her back was flush against his bare chest. "I'll keep you warm." He whispered into her hair, and this time when he felt her relax, he knew it was genuine.


	6. The Wolf and the Storm

The ride to Tardis was a two day journey for a single horse and rider. With their small posse of mages, a carriage, and Jack, the ride was going to take about four days.

The first two days hadn't been so bad. James had helped Rose a bit as she dressed for the trip, advising her to wear layers of clothes instead of just wearing something thick. He had been right, by noon everyday she had stripped herself of her thicker outer clothes down to a warm long sleeve woolen shirt and warm cotton riding breeches. She felt odd, and Jack said he did as well, riding in a saddle with reins when the mages and James were riding bareback and simply gripping the base of their mounts' manes.

She had felt the eyes of the Gallifreyans watching her as she had come out the first morning at James' side. Jack had given Rose her sword, bow, and quiver before she mounted her horse. James was riding his beautiful stallion instead of riding in the carriage, and she did not want the people with them to think her a pampered brat. So she had mounted just as proudly as he had.

At night the mages and Jack slept in tents, but she and James took the cushioned seats of the carriage. This wasn't for any reason other than Rose was just not acclimated to the cold. She had hardly spoken to anyone but Jack, not because she was feeling rude, but because she literally had nothing to discuss with them.

Even her conversations with her husband had been sparse, polite exchanges. She respected the man, and was still grateful for the kindness he had given her on their wedding night, but it was hard for her to relax in the thickening forests as they traveled. She observed him, and had to admit to herself that she might just admire the cool confidence with which he carried himself. His subjects seemed openly comfortable with engaging him in conversation, and he seemed just as at ease with them. He would, she imagined, make a fair and even Emperor.

James was loathe to admit that he had to admire the the tenacity in Rose. She never complained about the biting winds in the early mornings or evenings, and every movement she made was calculated and powerful. From the moment she had tied on her sword belt and strapped her bow and quiver to her back, it was like another woman had taken over. Gone was the hesitant girl he had held in his arms. In her place was woman fit to be on a throne or even leading a charge into battle.

Her amber eyes never stayed in one spot long, constantly scanning the trees around them. Even as they rested by the fire before sleeping, Rose was never totally relaxed. Like now, their dinner scraps discarded, she should have been engaged in light hearted conversation with Jack, but instead they were tending their swords.

Rose felt eyes on her, and her skin tingled with that feeling of an approaching storm. She raised her eyes to find James watching her and Jack from across the fire. His face was relaxed, as if observing someone on the street. She knew she should say something, but instead resigned to an half smile. Then a sound she had never heard outside of her thoughts pealed into the night. Jack jerked to attention beside her, but the mages seemed to not mind. She searched the line of the trees, but thought to herself that she must be imagining things.

"It's just a wolf." James chuckled, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. The alarm and curiosity in her eyes at the howl had surprised him. Surely the woman who carried the spirit of a wolf had seen one before. "I mean, you are spirit bound with them. Haven't you ever seen or heard one in the wild?"

Rose caught his eyes over the flames. The amusement in his voice flared indignation into her chest. "There are no wolves in the Powell Kingdom." She raised her eyebrow and sheathed her sword. "The climate is too hot and humid for them." If the Prince had bothered to learn about her country, he'd know this. Beside her Jack gave a huff of disapproval.

"Would you like to see one?" James had her attention now, and even though she had spoken so condescendingly to him, the excitement in her face was enough. "They should be hunting not far from here." He rose to his feet and extended a hand to her. "I'll show you."

Rose stared at his hand before passing her sword to Jack and strapped her quiver and bow to her back. "Stay here." She whispered, as her friend made to stand. "Your armor is too loud."

"Princess, I don't think you shoulder wander the forest alone at night." Jack wasn't trying to belittle her, she knew. He was just doing his job. She favored him with her tongue touched smile and shook her head.

"She won't be alone." James felt a short surge of misplaced anger at the Captain. The man was just trying to carry out his duties, yet the idea that he questioned James' vows to the gods was an insult. "She's armed, and I am in my own way. I won't let her come to harm, Captain." He felt her gloved fingers lace with his, as another howl echoed out through the trees.

Rose let the Prince lead her from the safety of the fire. The ice gathering on the branches and leaves crunched soundlessly under their leather boots as the wandered through the dark. She felt foolish, naive even, for putting herself in a position of danger.

The Wolf inside her awoke in response to the absence of Jack. Her vision became more clear as battle sight took hold. It lit the silver night into sharper contrast. She could see a pale blue aura emanating from James' skin, and her enhanced olfactory senses detected the faint aroma of lightning in the air. It drew her in, causing her pulse to race at the power.

James' energy sparked to life at their isolation in the trees. He looked over to find her amber eyes glowing wild yellow in the dark. It was as if someone had taken the eyes of the very creatures they were tracking and given them to Rose. Her movements grew more agile, and each step she took was lithe and smooth. They reached a small meadow, and he motioned for her to a stop. He was about to pull her down into a crouch, but she was already kneeling. Her bow was in hand, and an arrow rested relax, but ready, in the string. Her stealth took him by surprise, and that was saying something for a person bound by magic and raised in the forests.

Rose caught the smell of something wild on the wind. It was a scent new to her, and her Wolf registered it as a predator. Just like she would with Jack, she released his hand and got low in the undergrowth. Her bow was in her hand, and an arrow was notched prepared to be drawn. She felt James kneel behind her, his warm breath stirring the strands of her hair that had fallen loose from her braid. Then, movement caught her eye.

From the trees came a striking figure. Silver and rust fur gave way to eyes as yellow as the sun. It looked like a dog, but it was much larger and far more feral. Its paws were enormous, but they moved soundlessly. It paused, ears swiveling, nose twitching at the air. Then it raised its regal head for just a moment and gave a low call into the night.

Rose felt her heart thrum in response, and her throat ached with the need to call back to it. She had just tilted her head back, when she felt James' night chilled fingers slide over her lips. She swallowed the howl back into her chest. A distant howl called back over the trees, and the wolf turned around and darted in that direction.

James held Rose against him, feeling her previously at ease body tense in excitement. Her breath broke across his bare hand in rapid pants. What was this mad woman thinking? If she had called to that wolf, it would have mauled them both. When the howls finally faded into the distance, he uncovered her mouth. "You're insane." He growled in her ear, spinning her around by her shoulders. He barely had time to register her grabbing the front of his heavy shirt and pulling him into her.

Rose was kissing him, and it wasn't the nervous attempt at seduction like before. This was fire unleashed. Her teeth bit down on his lower lip to nearing the point of pain, and when James gasped in shock at the assault he felt her tongue brush against his. He regained control of his body, and his eyes closed. His energy sparked to life, dancing from his palm onto her neck as he cupped the back of her head. Her leather and fur gloves gripped hard at his shoulders as they tumbled to the frozen forest floor.

James rolled onto his back, keeping her from pressing into the frost leaves. He couldn't stop the gasp of pleasure as her thighs straddle his hips, and he snaked out one hand to her hips to steady her balance. He moved his lips with hers, pulling her closer to him, their chests pressed together.

He knew she should be repulsed by her every touch. He had been groomed to loathe her every word. It was ingrained in every lecture he had endured as to how crooked and cross the Tyler family was. Yet, when she arched her body flush against his, it was all instinct that drove his palm to cup the curve of where her supple rear met her muscular thigh.

Rose had no idea what had driven her to kiss James. Her body was far more energized than she had ever felt. There was something in the way he had growled in her ear, chastising her, challenging her. The crackle of the air around them drew her in. His lips were cold at first, and unresponsive to her own. Then his tongue danced with hers, and he tasted of a storm in the night. His hands on her body, shocking her exposed skin were addictive.

She pressed her body down into his, her own instincts driving her onward. The Wolf was yapping in her mind, and Rose couldn't tell if it was a warning or encouragement. It felt so good, so perfect, until his strong fingers cupped her thigh and leather clad bottom. The literal electric jolt that shot straight through her thigh and up her spine, stopped her heart for the briefest of moments. An unfamiliar warmth pooled low into her abdomen, and the sensation jerked Rose back to herself.

She pushed herself up, tearing her lips away from his. She stared down at him, breathing heavy. His normal crystalline eyes were dark in the faint moonlight, but bolts of light crackled behind his pupils. His bottom lip was bright red and a bit swollen, as he panted just as hard as she was. Rose realized, with an afterthought, that perhaps she had bitten down just a bit too hard. "Sorry." She gasped, trying to move off of him. The energy was fading, and in its place the cold indifference was settling. She froze when his hand shot up to hold her cheek, but she couldn't make herself pull away

James didn't want her to move. He had never been kissed so thoroughly in all his life. "Never, ever apologize for something like that you impossible woman." He couldn't help but chuckle at the scowl she was trying to fix him with. He wanted to kiss here again, but knew the moment was lost. Instead he ran this thumb along her red and swollen lips and released her. He didn't fool himself a bit, whatever disdain he had harbored for her was scattered somewhere in the night.

He held her hand again, guiding her through the paths he knew so well. James seemed to realize she was okay with the hand holding, even though she was back to her normal brusque demeanor. They could just make out the flames of camp between the trunks when someone stepped in front of them. James instinctively pushed Rose behind him, his free hand forming a ball of energy.

"Easy now, Your Highness." Jack held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "It's just me."

James absorbed the energy back into his palm, scowling at the Captain. "What were you thinking, Harkness. I could have fried you." He pushed past the man, still clinging to Rose's fingers, and led them into the fire lit clearing.

"You were gone for over an hour." Jack hissed, blocking them again. "Husband or not, Prince or not, that was reckless."

James opened his mouth to reprimand the knight when Rose stepped around him to rest a hand on his arm. "Jack, really, I was perfectly safe, but I understand." Her voice was reassuring and warm in a way James had never heard. Yet he couldn't help but preen and smirk as the knight took in Rose's tussled appearance and still red lips and frowned heavily.

Rose tried not to shake her head at Jack's outburst. She knew he meant well and was doing his job, but she also knew that he knew she could take care of herself. Coming after them was merely just to make sure James knew not to test him and nothing more. The figurative testosterone contest was beginning, only Jack was trying to fight her battle for her. She wasn't even entirely sure that she wanted there to be a battle anymore

She wanted to dislike the man she found herself bound to. She wanted to loathe him as much she she had before she knew him. His quiet power was becoming too magnetic to resist. James was polite, sometimes to a fault, kind even, and undeniably attractive. While that little pissing contest irked her pride, she had found his display of dominance was enticing. The Wolf inside her wasn't the only one wondering what that maelstrom would look like unleashed in battle.

"I think I'll retire for the evening." Rose was speaking in general to everyone present, James assumed. He relaxed his fingers to let her pull away, but she didn't. He arched a brow in question at her as she tugged his hand toward the carriage where they slept. "Aren't you coming, Your Highness?"

James was dumbfounded. A few minutes ago he was expecting her to toss her braid over her shoulder and strut off leaving him alone. This was a whole new turn of events and it confused him. "Yes, Princess." He threw a look over at Donna who was failing at pretending to be asleep. She shot him a look of puzzlement right back. Resigning himself to the fact that his wife changed moods faster than the weather, he followed behind her into the large carriage.

James made to sit down on the plush cushion he had been using as a bed, when Rose began tossing the pelt blankets and pillows to the floor wooden. His confusion was ever growing as she shed her fur cloak, slipped off her boots, and curled up under the nest she had made. One of her small but powerful hands stretched out to him, and her voice was just as soft but still as strong. "I'm cold."

"I'll keep you warm." James murmured back, kicking off his own boots and shedding his own lighter cloak. He slid down beside her, expecting her to roll onto her side. He let out breath of surprise as she curled into his side, her head on his wool covered chest. He waited just a moment, before curling an arm around her.

Rose lay there, listening to the steady sound of his heart. She found herself in a conundrum. She was conditioned to despise him, and some parts of her did. Many parts of her did actually. Her mind kept telling her that he was wrong for her. That everything was wrong. Yet here she was, seeking out his warmth in the night for the second time. There was a nagging sensation in her gut telling her not to relax, not to give in.

It was hard to focus on her reasons to hate him, when his fingers were brushing so tenderly against her side. "I'm supposed to hate you." Rose whispered, and his fingers stilled. "Why are you so nice to me?"

James considered her words. She had said she was supposed to hate him, not that she did. "Because, I know how hard this must be for you." He murmured back, looking down but it was too dark to make out more than her outline. "Would you prefer for me to be rude? I can do that. Donna says that I am ruse personified."

Rose rolled her eyes in the dark and moved her head so she was staring at the shadow of his jaw. "You confuse me." She admitted, waiting for him to scoff at her. When he barked out a rough laugh, she was confused even more.

James tugged her braid as he laughed at her, enjoying the silky feeling if it in his fingers. "I'm confusing." He shook his head against the bundle of cloth that was his makeshift pillow. "Says the woman who hardly speaks full sentences to me, then kisses me senseless in the forest." He snapped his mouth shut. That was not supposed to come out like that. He waited, tense, for her to pull away in the cramped space.

Rose was speechless. Perhaps she was just as much of an enigma to him as he was to her. She drummed her finger against his firm chest, and cleared her throat. "I said I was sorry for that."

"I told you not to apologize for that." James chuckled at the contrition in her tone. "Please, feel free to repeat it anytime." He felt her shift in his arms, lifting her head off of him, and he strained to try to make out her face.

"Yeah?" She breathed, her breath warm against his chin.

"Oh yes." James' voice was husky on her ears as she squinted at his unreadable face.

It was too dark to even make out the glaciers of his eyes. So she navigated by shaky memory until her nose bumped his. Rose licked her bottom lip, dampening it before she would press it to his own. She felt his fingers tighten on her waist as she kissed him tentatively. Her heart was stamping out a tattoo as the air around them crackled with energy. She knew, as his strong lips brushed against hers, that the power he held wouldn't hurt her.

Suddenly the Wolf inside of her snarled, but not at him. A shout rang out from the camp. She jerked away, fumbling for her boots and her weapons. James was bumping into her as he threw open the carriage door, and burst into the night. She realized Jack still had her sword, and all she had was her bow and full quiver.

James let out a powerful cry as his power snapped to full height inside of him. Dark figures were scuffling with his mages. Fireballs blazed across the camp, as did rays of blue light. Jack was engaged in a fierce sword fight with what could only be a a pair Daleks. Their swords were surrounded by some sort of blue flame.

With a roar of rage, James unleashed his battle magic at them. The lightning crackled into one of them, slamming into its blue eye. It screamed in fury and collapsed. He unleashed a second bolt just as Jack's sword severed the other's head. They shared a brief look before charging at another pair heading towards the carriage. "Aim for the eyes!" He bellowed, his voice clapping like thunder to his mages.

Rose slammed the door out of her way just in time to see James unleash his power. She had no time to admire it, as she jumped from the step of the carriage to the wheel, and then up to the roof. Jack and James were battling another pair of Daleks, creating a barrier of blade a magic between her and the fray.

She gave into the Wolf as she expertly readied her bow. She had limited arrows, so each shot had to count. Her eyes narrowed in on Donna, who was battling a single Dalek. Her fire blazed forward, aimed at the grotesque creature. It blocked the flame with its blade, and Rose knew danger was coming as its middle eye opened and began to glow.

She loosed the arrow, and it struck its target. The creatures howled as it fell, and Donna unleashed a cyclone of flame on its body. Rose aimed again, felling a Dalek who was about to swing its blazing blade into the back of a mage she had not learned the name of. She let another arrow rip, only watching long enough to watch it fall writhing to the ground.

She paused, long enough to watch her husband clap his hands together and sent a forked bolt of lightning into one of the demons advancing on Jack's exposed back. At the sight, something deep inside Rose's soul snapped into place. 

The Wolf was fully in control now, and Rose no longer had conscious power over her movements. The mages were circling, as she reduced the numbers assaulting them, back towards their Prince and the Captain. As her last arrow flew into the night, it pierced through a bolt of crackling energy. With a sickening squelch, it ripped the head off of the final Dalek and drove it into a tree on the far side of the clearing. The head exploded, lighting up the clearing, before a cacophony of thunder shook them to their bones.

When the clearing grew quiet, she tossed her head back and unleashed a howl of victory. The Wolf cried louder as Jack's Tiger bellowed back, challenging everything in the night to test them now.

James spun, body on edge, at the challenge in the air. Jack was standing beside the Donna, his broadsword brandished high. The guttural roar was emanating from him, but he paid no need. His eyes were searching for one person. Rose was crouching on the roof of the carriage, her bow in hand, with her voice shattering the night. As the pair quieted, her piercing eyes found his, and her lips curled back in a feral smile of triumph.

From somewhere in the distance, the pack of wolves resounded her call. Feeling the storm still writhing off of his skin, he crossed the short distance and held out his arms. James caught her effortlessly as she leapt down to him, and everyone in the clearing cheered when he claimed her lips with his own. 


	7. First Snow

They had ridden hard, as soon as the sun had risen. The burning pile of Dalek corpses made the air thick and suffocating. Rose's horse had been killed, as had Donna's. Still Rose could not bear to ride in the carriage. Instead she rode behind James, one arm around his waist, and the other clutching her sheathed sword across her lap. Donna was mounted behind Jack, and neither of them seemed to have issue with that arrangement.

There was something about joining forces in that small skirmish that had opened the Gallifreyans to her and Jack. They no longer treated them with indifference. Now they openly spoke with them, differing unto Rose the same respect they gave their Prince.

James had reached out to the guards at Tardis, alerting them of what had occurred through the enchanted mirrors. He had learned that larger groups of Daleks had been sighted in the Cardiff mountains, spilling out to terrorize the cities and villages along the range. The fierce soldiers of Powell combined with the magic of Gallifrey had succeeded thus far in keeping them confined. There was still no word as to how large their armies were, or when they would launch the full scale invasion.

Some of the smaller, less defensible villages near the city were seeking refuge in the fortress. As the day grew on, they began to pass growing crowds of Gallifreyans on the main road. They parted before the group, issuing out cheers as their Prince galloped past. Some muttered about why the Powells among them. James knew that word of the wedding was still making its way throughout the land. It was not nearly as newsworthy as the coming war.

Rose fought back the cold as the sun dipped lower. Soon clouds were gathering overhead, and flurries began to swirl around them in the air. Just as the sun was touching the tops mountains that trailed from the north down to the west, a massive tower came into view. James had not been joking when he said the city was a fortress.

Massive stone walls loomed higher than trees of the forest they had just broken free from. The ramparts were lined with mages in silver robes, and the crimson sunset caught the threads as if they were on fire. The mountains made the back end of the city, with only a single gap in the range. Rose knew what that was, the passage of the North Wind. It led directly from the back of the city, through a narrow pass, and out to the frigid seas beyond. The castle itself was an imposing figure towering above the city. It was built with stones carved from the surrounding mountains. The top of each of the five towers was roofed in silver, refracting the sunset onto the snow capped peaks in the distance. It was not her Golden Palace high above the sea, but it was just as imposing.

A mage riding to their left, Rory, passed James his crown. Neither he nor Rose had been wearing them on the ride. He slid it one handed onto his hair. The sunset glared off of it, and a heralding of trumpets erupted from the ramparts as it did. The people ahead on the road parted swiftly, cheering as they rode through. These individuals did not give Rose or Jack scathing looks, James noted fondly. Word of their forest skirmish must have traveled to the streets already. He braced his arm over Rose's as Anurob sprinted through the city square and under the portcullis that separated the castle fairway from the city.

His horse came to a heaving stop at the steps leading up to the main door, and James slid from his back and helped Rose down. The doors blew open, and He half expected his mother to come sweeping out. Then he remembered she was still in Arcadia. A woman did come out, his Aunt Sylvia. In his and his mother's absence, she had been left in charge. She was flanked by members of the staff who immediately began tending to their scarce supplies.

"Thank the Starmakers you're alive." She breathed, curtsying low before cupping his face. She turned her eyes on Rose and gave another shorter curtsy. "Your Highness." Then she turned to her daughter who was being helped off of Jack's horse, Torchwood, and begun her fuss all over again.

Rose was too exhausted to feed into the woman's chilled greeting. Her fingers and toes were numb, and her joints were stiff as she stretched. She caught sight of a fiery haired woman dash down the stairs, her slight form showing the hint of a baby belly, and grab Rory in a crushing hug. That must be Amelia, his wife. She remembered James asking him how her pregnancy was treating her.

"Let's get you fed and warmed." James murmured to Rose, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Captain Jack, you are to go to the guest wing and rest. I don't want to hear a word about it. You look dead on your feet." He knew the knight would want to protest, so he made sure to put the appropriate authority in his voice. "You can't protect Rose if you're exhausted. Now go."

He was spent and sore himself, but his bride looked ready to drop. After the energy he had expended the night before, James knew a heavy meal and warm bath would have him unconscious for the rest of the night. "Hold on." He murmured to her, lifting her into his shaky arms. "Fatigue does not override tradition in Gallifrey."

Rose gave a squeak of surprise as she was swept off her feet and carried up the stone steps to the open doors. She was too drowsy and chilled to protest against his arm chest. When they crossed the threshold, she gazed in awe at their surroundings. The stone walls were draped in tapestries of star charts. Treated furs were painted with scenes of ice capped waves and sunrises over the surrounding forests. Heavy wooden chandeliers held orbs of glowing lights they cast the statues of former Emperors and Empresses onto the smooth stone floors.

It was so much different than the light weight tapestries that hung the walls of the palace back in Powell. There windows were trimmed with sheer silk or intricate lace, allowing the salt air of the sea to wash throughout her home. She took all of the differences in as he carried her up two flights of stairs to white dark set of doors. With a snap of his fingers against her side, they swung inward, and he set her down on the plush bear rug that sat in front of a freshly made fire.

A woman was coming out of a room adjacent to this one. James smiled at her. "Sarah Jane!" The older woman beamed back at him, not even bothering with protocol, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"James! I was so worried." James pulled back to gaze adoringly down at his childhood nursemaid. "When I heard what happened, I was so terrified that you were hurt." He watched the curiosity fill her eyes as she looked over at Rose, who was looking very out of place and way too sleepy for her own good.

"Sarah Jane, may I present my wife, Princess Rose Tyler Whitestar." James added on his family name, even though he had not yet done so. It seemed to fit her though. "Rose, this is Sarah Jane. She was my nursemaid."

"Then the honor is entirely my own." Rose beamed at the woman before she could curtsy. When the woman pulled her into a tight hug, she couldn't help but kiss the woman's cheek. "I've only been with him for four days, and he drives me barmy. I can only imagine what raising him must have been like."

"A handful, I'll tell you that." Sarah Jane pulled back from Rose, then fluttered her hands. "I'll send dinner up to you immediately. You two must be exhausted." With one last smile she left them alone.

"I need a bath to defrost." Rose finally sighed. "Please tell me that there is a hot bath in there." She pulled at her heavy coat buttons and began stripping it off as James shed his own lighter one and stepped into the other room.

James saw his massive bathing pool filled to the brim. The scent of minerals and fragrant oils filled the steamy air. The floral smell of Sarah Jane's magic still hung lightly in the air, and he spotted her signature blue flames flickering in the the niches of the pools outer walls.

He came back out to find Rose seated on the sofa by the fire place, untying her tall riding boots. James could tell her fingers were still stiff from the snow, and he knelt to cover her hand. "Let me." With nimble fingers he plucked the laces loose and slid them from Rose's feet. Her wool socks were soaked with cold sweat, and he peeled those off to reveal her red frost nipped toes. He took each foot in his hand and slowly rubbed the circulation back to warmth.

Rose sighed at his touch, leaning her head back against the cushion behind her. "If you keep that up, Your Highness, I may fall asleep right here." He had magic hands, and she did not mean the kind that sparked with energy. The moan that escaped her lips as he rubbed the ball of her foot was way to husky.

"I need to get your blood flowing before you get in the bath." James explained as her skin warmed slowly under his touch. "Or it might damage your feet."

After a few more wonderful moments, Rose watched him stand up and extend a hand to her. She took it and followed as he led her to the ensuite. The stone pool that jutted up from the floor had small shelves in its sides where blue flames danced. It was large enough for two people, and three small stone steps led up to the rim. That intoxicating floral smell from the oil at the wedding was heavy in the steam. "What is that fragrance?" Rose purred as she began stripping out of her grimy clothes. "It's lovely."

"Moonlily." James was trying hard not to stare was Rose peeled off her clothes with no hesitation. He was going to suggest she bathe first, but apparently she was already thinking ahead of him. "The flower of the Royal family." He looked down for a moment to kick off his own boots, and when he looked up again, Rose was already settled in the water.

Rose leaned her head back against the wet stone, letting the heat from the water soak into her bones. She struggled to keep her eyes open. With experienced fingers, she undid her braid, and let her hair hang loose around her face. Just as she was brushing it from her eyes, she felt the water stir. She opened her eyes to see James sitting across from her. His legs were on either side of her own.

He was grabbing a cloth from the edge, and began filling it with some white cream. Rose watched, her mind delirious with lack of sleep, as he began scrubbing the grime of the road from his body. Rose had a strange urge to do it for him, but she grabbed her own cloth and began to wash herself.

James tried hard not to rake his eyes over the flesh exposed to him across the water. The water covered all but the top curves of her breasts. Even with the abrupt shift in their comfort levels, he didn't think either of them were ready for that step. That didn't mean he didn't want to touch her satin skin. He was just trying to let her come to him.

He spotted a bottle of hair oil near his elbow and passed it to her. "This should help with your hair."

As Rose took it, a knock from the other room made her jump. It had been so quiet, she had nearly forgotten where they were. She sighed, reaching for a towel but James beat her to it. "I'll go. You stay here." He smiled gently.

Rose hummed in consent and ducked her head under the water as he stood. By the time she had soaked her hair, he was already tying a rich blue dressing robe around his body. She scrubbed the dirt and sweat from her hair and then massaged the oil into the damp strands.

James crossed the bedroom and opened the door. Sarah Jane was standing with her own son Luke carrying dinner trays, and a few of the servants had the chests with Rose's and his clothes. He let them in and took the tray from Sarah Jane and set it on the table in the corner by the fire. When they excuses themselves, he popped open one of the trunks and began digging for something warm for Rose to wear.

A soft clearing of the throat drew his attention to the door to the ensuite. Rose was standing there, wearing nothing but a towel around her frame. She seemed so small and thin compared to everything around her, that for the first time the word delicate floated to his mind. He knew she was far from fragile, but in that moment she looked like a doll made of glass.

"That for me?" Rose asked the starry eyed man staring at her. He was holding a pair of her sea green sleeping pants and a matching top.

"Um, yes." She had never seen his cheeks turn that particular color pink before, and she delighted in the way it spread up to the tips of his ears. He crossed to her holding the items out "And I found your comb." Rose felt a bit foolish, as she took them from him and stepped back into the washing room.

She was still nervous about letting him see her naked. It wasn't that she didn't have a pleasing form. She knew she did, although perhaps not in the same way that many of the Gallifreyan women did. They were all tall and graceful in the bodies. Rose was built like the women of Powell, short, muscular but flexible and quick on her toes.

James had just uncovered their dinner and was setting out the warm chowder and bread when Rose reentered the room. She was running a comb through her hair as she paused by the fire. "Some days I really hate this." She grumbled as she untangled a knot at the end.

"Why don't you cut it then?" James was curious. Many women in Gallifrey wore their hair up to their shoulders. Rose would look lovely no matter what she did to her hair, and he decided to tell her. "You would still look as stunning."

Rose flushed at his words. Long hair was a symbol of beauty and strength in Powell. It meant that a woman had not been overpowered in battle. "It would be a disgrace." She raised an eyebrow at him. "The longer a woman's hair, the longer she has been fighting and never conquered." She hadn't really meant that she disliked her golden waves. She just grew tired of having to comb it out, especially when her arms were already so heavy.

"Well come and eat while it dries." James pulled the chair out closest to the fire. Once Rose settled in, he took his own and poured a glass of wine for himself. He offered some to her, and she refused. She opted for the goblet of water instead. She was staring down at the creamy liquid in front of her. "It's good, bacon and corn chowder. Trust me."

Trust him? Two days ago, those words would have sent Rose off on an internal tirade about why he was a pompous prick. Now they encouraged her to pick up the spoon and taste the meal. James was right, it was succulent. Already it was warming her as it settled in her stomach. She knew the food here would be heavier and richer, in order to provide the necessary nutrients for the winter. She just wasn't expecting it to be so delicious. "This is amazing." She hummed reaching for a slice of bread.

"Told you." James grinned at her then began on his own. They ate silently, too worn to do more than fill their bellies. When Rose let her spoon fall into her empty bowl, he watched her eyes take in his massive bed. "Go on then." He chuckled. "I'll tidy this up and put it in the hall." He stood when she did, snagging her bowl and water goblet. When he looked up, she was reclining back on the pillows, still above the blankets, and looking out at the early night sky.

The view of the stars was blocked by a heavy curtain of snowflakes. All that was visible was what was right outside the glass panes. Strong winds where shaking against them fiercely, and Rose felt like she was caught in the little globe her father had once brought back from a trip across the sea.

If she quieted her thoughts, she could pretend she was there. Outside of that glass was her airy bedroom. The cool breeze would be bringing in the sound of gulls and waves. She just had to reach out and push until the globe would tumble and smash on the floor to free her. Something soft and warm draped over her body, and Rose let herself fall into blackness.

James knew the moment she was asleep, because the tiny frown lines on her forehead smoothed away. Her constant underlying alertness was gone, and her full lips were parted slightly. It struck him just how young she was. He wasn't old himself, only nearing his thirty first year, but she was only twenty four.

He saw her shiver, even under the heavy down blanket he had pulled over her, and pulled her limp body to his chest. It wouldn't take long for her to grow used to the brutal winters, and by spring she would not need his warm arms around her. The firelight dancing off her hair soothed him to dreams, and just before he was pulled totally under, he felt her fingers lace with his.

Rose wasn't sure what had woken her at first. For once it wasn't the cold. She was warm, incredibly so, under the blankets. It wasn't until she opened her eyes in the dark room that she realized it was the quiet. She had never heard such utter silence in her life. The fire was out, and the wind had vanished.

The crescent moon was visible through the glass, and its silver light cast shadows across the walls. She tried to raise up enough to see through the curtains on the window, but all she saw was the snow capped trees twinkling softly. A warm arm wrapped around her waist, and just as warm lips pressed into the back of her shoulder. "It's just the first snow." James murmured drowsily. "The quiet, that is. Lay back down and rest."

James had awoken as soon as Rose sat up. He knew instantly what had disturbed her, and smiled. Pulling her back down to him, he held her to his chest and stroked her arms. "I've never heard anything like it." Rose's voice was awestruck in the dim room. James smiled. He knew she had lived near the sea, and doubted that she had ever gone so long without the call of its waves.

"We can get up and go look." He offered, reaching down to grab the fur wrap at the foot of the bed.

Rose stopped his hand and pulled it back over her waist. "I'd rather stay here where I'm warm." She smiled against his chest and pressed a hesitant kiss on the flannel covering it. She felt his lips brush the top of her head, and they let the silence pull them back into dreams.


	8. Confirming of the Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be smut!

Two weeks had passed since they arrived at Tardis. Each of them were busy in their own ways. Rose had taken it upon herself to train anyone who wanted to learn on the basics of physical combat. It had come as no surprise when Donna had been the first to volunteer, although Rose doubted it was the desire to hold a sword that drew her in.

James was working with his council of advisors to plan the most effective ways to position of the rear troops that were coming in from the western cities. He occasionally called Rose in to ask her advice, since she had some experience in smaller battles. Where Rose was unsure, Jack usually had critical insights to fill in the gaps. He was grateful for their experience and wisdom more than he could ever express.

So far, the majority of the fighting was staying confined to the foot hills of the mountains, although a band or two of Daleks would sneak past and make it inland before soldiers or mages laid them to waste. The Empress and Commander Harriet were even managing to gain some foot holds higher up in the mountains, while King Pete and the Lord General focused on keeping Powell secure and sneaking spies over into Skaro. So far no spies had returned.

It was growing on Rose, as she listened to messages from the battlefront, knowing she was not out with her people. Her blood yearned to take up arms with her sword brothers and sisters. James was growing just as restless she knew, and she had heard him over talking with one of his advisors.

The man had been inquiring if there was any news of a possible heir. Without Rose conceiving a child, James would not be able to go to the front lines. James had lied through his teeth, saying that they were trying. He had not even broached the subject of consummation since their wedding night. They hadn't even bathed or changed together since the evening they arrived. Guilt had begun to gnaw at Rose, knowing James was waiting for her to initiate it. It wasn't that she didn't want to, she was just inexperienced in that area and was afraid she would not bring him satisfaction.

It was the fifteenth day since they arrived that Rose had spent her first time alone with the citizens. She and Jack went into the main part of the city to escape the confines of the castle and try to clear her head. They had even managed to give Donna the slip, which was saying something. In order to blend in, Rose had donned the more flowing robe like garments of the Gallifreyan women, instead of her normal breeches and lace up tops.

Jack looked just as comfortable in the clothing of the country as he did in his armor, although Rose knew he had several daggers tucked in the various folds of of his tunic top and cloak. In all honesty, so did she. The city was bustling, full to the brim with people who had come to seek shelter.

Most of the people spoke the basic common tongue, but some of the more rural farmers and traders spoke Gallifreyan. It had been some time since Rose or Jack had spoken the language, having learned it in her grooming for the throne, but she managed to get along without drawing too many looks.

Jack suggested they stop, sometime just after noon, at a small inn to warm up and grab something quick to eat. It was so loud and crowded in the main area that they could easily blend in and talk. "So, Rose." Jack began as he dipped a hunk of bread into the bowl of rabbit stew in front of him. "How is married life behind closed doors?" He gave her mischievous grin that told her he wasn't asking how the Prince took his tea before bed. "Has my advice through the years paid off?"

Rose almost choked on the mouthful of soup she had just taken and felt her face grow red. "Jack!" She hissed covering her her eyes for a moment. If she tried to lie, Jack would know. The best solution was to just not answer, and she shoveled another bite into her mouth.

"Oh come on, Rosie." He chuckled lowering his voice and leaning forward. "You're blushing like you're still a virgin."

Rose did choke this time, and Jack reached around to thump her back until her throat was clear. "I don't want to talk about it." She coughed.

Jack sucked in a breath, his eyes wide, and gaped at her. "Oh my gods." Rose felt her stomach clench at the surprised understanding in his voice. "You mean you haven't, but I heard Donna tell the Empress." He grabbed her forearm on the table and hissed even lower. "That's a violation of the alliance agreement, if anyone finds out."

Rose grabbed his wrist and threw his hand back at him. "Nobody will if you keep your bloody mouth shut, Jack." She growled and handed a pile of coins to a passing barmaid. "We need to go. People are starting to stare."

Some of the people were looking. It was too loud for them to have been overheard, but some of the patrons were preparing to step in to defend this unknown woman from the man she was whispering with.

The walk back through the town square was tense. She and Jack had never exchanged such tones with each other in the past. Rose felt guilty for snapping at him, but it irked her that James had been keeping their intimacy down to nothing more than kissing and holding.

When they reached the gates that led to the stables, they lowered their hoods so guards could identify them, and in even more conflicted silence, headed into the main castle. "I'm going to my quarters to change." Jack huffed, turning a tense shoulder to her as they reached the top of the stairs. He closed the door to his room in her face without another word.

Rose sighed at the wood, feeling like a horrible leader and an even worse friend, when a loud voice bellowed from the direction of James' study. "I told you to find her! Search every house in the blasted city if you have to! I'll ride out into the forest myself if you're too cowardly!"

Rose hurried down the corridor and around a corner just in time to see the doors fly open and James storm out into the hall. The lightning sparks of his power was dancing over his hair and clenched fists. She felt her heart do a double flip at the raw display of anger and fear. It was terrifying and enthralling all at once. When his blazing eyes found hers, every muscle in her body froze.

The men who had chased after him caught sight of her and beat a hasty retreat in the opposite direction. "Where the hell have you been?"

~*~*~*

James had spent all morning in war briefings and planning sessions. The Daleks were slowly gaining more and more ground. Forcing the conjoined armies back out of the mountains. Scouts had also reported seeing two cloaked figures at the highest point in the mountains, observing one of the more fierce battles. Their faces had been hidden, but one of them had blonde hair under his hood. Any suspicions on whether Harold had destroyed the Rift or not was confirmed.

The only bright part of morning was the brief conversation he had had with his mother.

"How is your new wife?" Idris' voice sounded tired and battle worn. "I hope she finds our home accommodating." She was genuinely hoping that, he knew.

"She is adjusting well." James informed her, unable to hide the tone of affection. "The cold is hardest for her, but she doesn't complain. She's taken over training anyone who wants to learn how to engage in weaponry."

"I hope you two aren't at each others' throats. You know how you like to row." His mother shook her head, ever the concerned parent.

James shook his head and let the smile break across his face. "Actually, we haven't had any arguments yet, except over who gets to wash first." He leaned back in his chair and let out a breath. "At first she was cold and hardly spoke, but after the Dalek encounter in the forest she changed." He tugged at his ear. "I'm not exactly sure why."

"She comes from a kingdom of warriors, James." Idris gave a knowing smile. "Seeing you in all the fury of the Oncoming Storm must have made her realized you were her equal." A loud trumpet blast made them both jump, and the Empress frowned. "They are attacking. I've got to go." The mirror over the mantle went blank.

James frowned in concern for his mother, and found that the only thing that could ease the dread in his stomach was to share a meal with Rose. "Rory!" He called wearily. The man came hustling in from the hall outside. He was wringing his hands, and as the door shut James caught a glimpse of Amelia's red hair whisking past the door. The feisty woman had befriended Rose almost immediately, and Rose had recruited her as a handmaiden by the third day in the castle. "Is Rose finished with her morning exercises with the Captain?"

"About that, Your Highness." Rory frowned anxiously. "Amy says she never went down to training, and neither did the Captain. Neither of them are anywhere in the castle or on the grounds. We've searched everywhere."

James felt his heart flood. "Ianto!" He yelled, and the door leading to the library on his left flew open. The scholar came hurrying in. "Rose is missing, gather a search party."

"Your Highness, I think we are being a bit hasty." Ianto tried to calm him. "There is every possibility that the Princess simply went hunting."

James knew the man was trying to calm him, but he was too riled up to be calm. "Well then check the forests!" He exclaimed, feeling the storm brewing in his chest. Ozone hung heavily around him, as the air crackled around his head and fists.

"Sir, we should check the city first. Perhaps she went into town. Amy said she was wearing a dress." Rory interjected logically. "That isn't really something the Princess would wear hunting."

"I don't care how you do it!" James stormed around the desk. "I told you to find her! Search every house in the blasted city if you have to! I'll ride out into the forest myself if you're too cowardly!" He knew he was being too harsh on his men, but a million possible scenarios were racing through his mind. Had she ridden into the forest with Jack and encountered a wyrebear? What if she had run off with the Captain? Perhaps her growing affections towards him were falsities.

With a wave of his arms, the doors blew open with a surge of wind. He stormed, quite literally, into the hall. A flash of pink and yellow caught his eye. The reason for all his rage and terror stood silently in the corridor, her amber eyes wide with shock and mouth open. "Where the hell have you been?" He hadn't meant to shout, but the storm was heavy and wild in his body.

*~*~*

Rose felt her feet moving before she realized it. When her mind comprehended the actions, she was already grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling his lips to hers. She nipped his lower lip between her teeth, eliciting a throaty growl from the Prince. Almost of their own accord, her hands dragged down his torso and began pulling his shirt out of his pants.

James was ready for a fight when Rose silenced him with her lips. He grabbed her hips and pulled her into himself. His anger giving way to a different sort of fire as her teeth pulled at him. He ripped the clasp holding her cloak at her throat and let the heavy pink material fall to the floor behind her. He broke the kiss at the urgency of her hands. "You had me worried sick." He hissed into her ear, before catching the skin of her neck in his teeth. With a grunt of effort, he lifted her from the floor and stumbled back into his study. He clenched his fingers and the door slammed shut behind them.

"Sorry." Rose sighed, running her tongue along the curve of his jaw. "Just went for a walk." She began pulling at the buttons on his shirt now. When they didn't work free easily, she grasped the seam in her hands and pulled until they all popped free. She latched her lips just above his collar bone, pulling and sucking at the skin with her teeth. That unfamiliar warmth was kindling in her thighs again.

"Tell me where you're going next time." James grunted. If he had any doubts on what her intentions were, they were gone now. Rose's mouth and fingers were rushing blood low into his body. He began pulling at the folds of her dress, and laughed inwardly as not one, but three daggers clattered to the floor.

Rose arched her body into his. James was much taller than her, but it wasn't awkward to curve herself against him. In fact, it was delightful. It made him seem more powerful, more imposing. She pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms. Then she lowered her own to her side and let him free her of the wrapped bodice as she toed off the fur boots she had slipped on before leaving. Once the heavy cloth around her chest and waist was fully undone, the material pooled at her feet, leaving her bare before his eyes.

James felt his heart stop at the vision before him. Rose was breathtaking. Her skin was tan, though that was slowly fading. Her breasts were luscious, the way her chest curved down to form them. His fingers ached to feel them under his touch, but he wanted to see her entirely. Her stomach was flat, small muscles evident as she breathed heavily before him, and it led down to her supple hips and powerful thighs. James thought he had never seen anything so enticingly stunning before in his life. Unable to keep himself from her any longer, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close again.

Rose felt self conscious under his dark gaze for only a moment before her tongue was dancing with his. She pulled at the strings of his doeskin pants, and she slid her fingers inside the soft material to push them down. She whined in protest when he grabbed her wrists to stop her. Her whimper cut short as he spun her around, and pressed her back to his massive desk. The wood was cold against her lower back, but the heat of her skin soon changed that. She moved her lips back to his through, running her tongue across his adams apple, and was vaguely aware of quills, paper, and inkpots crashing to the floor.

She gasped at the feeling of his hands cupping her breasts, and gave a husky moan she didn't even know she was capable of when his rough thumbs flicked across her nipples. His crackling energy surged through her in a jolt that caused her legs to shake, and warmth began pooling wetly between her thighs.

James felt his arousal straining against the tightness of his pants. He wished for a moment that he had carried her to their bed, but the desk would have to do. Rose's breasts were soft in his hand, and he hadn't meant to let his energy surge out. It was hard to keep the magic under control with his thoughts so scattered and hazy. He was going to apologize when she groaned, and pride surged through him that he had reduced her to such a state.

He regretfully released one of her supple breasts to push down his pants as he kicked off his boots. Once he was just as bare as she, he grabbed her by the thighs and lifted her up and back onto the top of the desk. Rose was flushed pink, and her eyes were half closed as she breathed heavily before him. He wanted to watch her come undone, see her power as raw and wild as he felt. James grabbed her legs and pulled them around his waist, pressing his hard length against her slick folds and soaked curls.

Rose tightened her thighs around his firm waist, arching her back at the new sensations he was giving her. His hardness brushed firmly against a spot, and she gave a cry. "Again." She pleaded, pressing her head back against the hard wood. She was rewarded with another firm stroke against the spot. Pleasure shot into her core. "Holy heavens, again, James please." She squeeze her eyes shut, unable to stop the cries of ecstasy as he repeated the movement.

James loved the way she begged him. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he held her writhing hips firmly to the desk as he took a steady rocking rhythm. His Rose was well on the way to her first climax, and possessive pride spurred him on. It took every ounce of control he had to not just let himself sink deep into the hot slickness of her. He leaned over her, kissing her deeply, feeling her thighs tighten around him.

"That's it, love." He murmured as he trailed his lips down to her breasts . "You're almost there." He sucked the right nipple into his mouth, rolling the dusky bud with his tongue. The keening she was making and the way she kept trying to buck against him almost made him find his own release already. He released her hip, and caught the other nipple between his fingers, letting that same spark as before rush into her.

Rose panted heavily under him. Her hands gripped tightly to his shoulders. There was something growing inside of her. It was building in her lower back and deep inside her core. James seemed eager to bring this feeling on, and she had no explanation for what it was. All she knew was she had to keep rocking against him. When that jolt sparked through her nipple again, the tension that had been growing snapped.

Rose felt blood rush to her head and her heart stuttered. The most intense pleasure she had ever experience flooded through her body. The room spun and she had to squeeze her eyes. She heard herself crying his name, and before she could ask him what had happened, he was kissing her. Rose groaned into his mouth, shaking under him as her body tensed and relaxed in time to the thrumming sensation between her thighs. She felt his fingers drag down her stomach and grasp his length. There was a feeling of discomfort for a moment, before a new kind of pleasure, tinged with a delicious pain, washed through her.

James pushed into her slowly. She was impossibly tight, and his control was close to breaking. He had thought that Rose in battle was the most beautiful and heart stopping then he had ever seen, but watching her come undone under him now ranked at the head of the list. Her muscles were still fluttering as he inched himself into her. She was hot, unbelievably wet, and James couldn't take it slow anymore. He began to thrust into her, gasping her name against her neck as he did. Next time, he would take her to bed and worship her properly.

"Am I hurting you?" He sighed into her ear as her nails dug into his back. Rose made an unintelligible noise somewhere between a whimper and a growl, and he gasped in response as she forced her hips up to meet his. He'd take that as a no. Braced himself over her with one arm, and cupped her face with the other. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was opened, small cries of lust came from her throat. He kept up his rhythm, feeling his own release close.

Rose couldn't comprehend what he was saying. She just wanted more. The Wolf had stirred somewhere inside of her, and it was enhancing the sensations of his staticky touch on her skin. The sensations were overwhelming and yet not enough. That tension was building once, and she wanted to explode with it again. "Harder." She heard her voice plead. "Faster."

Her husband obliged. Rose opened her eyes long enough to see him straighten himself to grab her hips in both hands. His own eyes were closed, his mouth open with heavy broken breaths, and his thrusts came deeper and stronger. The blue white crackles of his magic danced along his skin and popped at the ends of his hair. It was wild and drove her the need inside of her higher. Rose snaked her hand along her body, reaching for the spot that had felt so amazing. Firm fingers gripped her wrist, and she looked up to see James' blue eyes flashing lightning at her. "Let me." His voice was gravely and frantic as he licked one thumb and pressed it against her. H

Rose looked so wild under him. Her eyes were blazing yellow with the Wolf, and her cries of pleasure had turned into short and frantic moans. Her hands had gone up over her head to grip the edge of the desk. James felt her tightening around him as he worked the bundle of nerves under his thumb. She had enjoyed the sensation of his power on her breasts, and he wondered how she'd react to it on her most sensitive bundle of nerves. He let it spark out, and was rewarded to the sight and sound of her howling his name into the air and bucking her hips off the table.

James felt his own tension building, and he gripped her hips even tighter. He leaned over her, as Rose clenched around him, and kissed her fiercely. The muscles in his stomach tensed and his balls grew tight. His thrusts grew shorter and less controlled as his own release washed through him. He cried her name into her open mouth, pulling her against him as he emptied himself inside of her. She trembled under him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she broke the kiss to smile at him in that tongue touched way.

Rose felt him slide out of her, and she let a giggle burst over her lips. "That was." She didn't have the breath to finish the sentence. The Wolf inside her was preening proudly at what had occurred. There were red circles on his neck and chest where she had marked him, and she bet there would be long scratches along his back as well.

"Fantastic." James chuckled pressing another kiss to her lips and gently unwrapping her legs from around him. He let his eyes drift over her glowing form. There were love bites on either side if her neck, one on her chest just above her right breast, and red finger marks on her hips and thighs. He smirked at the symbols of his presence.

Rose slid to her feet, her legs shaking as she stood. She would be sore tomorrow, that was easy to tell, but she didn't care. As her mind cleared, she recalled what he had said to her in the beginning. "You called me love." She gasped watching as he bent to retrieve her dress. Sure enough, red lines crisscrossed his strong back.

"So I did." James felt a little hesitation seep into his mind as he handed her the dress. She looked properly stunned for the first time since he met her. "Because I think I just might be beginning to..." He let his voice trail off as she raised her eyes to his. His heart was pounding again, waiting for her to say or do anything.

"I think." Rose swallowed, feeling another new emotion flow into her chest. It was warm, like the arousal had, but deeper. "I think, maybe, I might be starting to as well." She went up on her toes to brush her lips to his.

A loud knock made them jerk apart. "If you two are finished scandalizing the rest of us." Jack laughed from the other side of the door. "There is a room full of advisers waiting for an audience with His Royal Highness."

"Guess I was a bit loud." Rose giggled, blushing from head to toe as she quickly slipped on her dress and wrapped the bodice around her. "Maybe I shouldn't have howled?"

"I happen to like when howl." James chuckled as he yanked on his pants and fumbled with his shirt. He caressed the spots on her neck. "Don't cover those up." He purred in her ear before turning to yank open the door and walking proudly out into the hall.

Rose stared after him, the grinned broadly at Jack when he leaned against the frame. "In case you didn't hear." She laughed, brushing past him. "Married life is quite delightful."

 


	9. The Fall of the Light

Rose felt guilt, but James felt relief a week later when her cycle came on. Rose was guilty because she knew how much he had wanted to ride out and face the forces of Skaro himself. James was relieved, because he did not want to ride into battle without his wife by his side.

As a side effect, Rose was even more grumpy than usual when a blizzard began howling over the mountains. They were, in essence, confined to the castle. Even with the Wolf, Rose could barely see the outline of the stables from the counsel room's window. She leaned her shoulder against the window frame, flipping a dagger into the air absentmindedly and catching it by the small hilt. The Empress and Commander Harriet were discussing some way, yet again, to slip spies successfully into Skaro to gather information.

James was standing across the room, under a looming portrait of his father, his face narrowed in thought. Rose couldn't help but notice the similarities between her husband and her deceased father in law. They shared the same strong jaw, their proud noses curved in exactly the same way, and their eyes were the exact same intense glacial blue. "It doesn't make sense." Her mind was making connections she hadn't even considered before.

James looked up when Rose spoke for the first time since she woke up that morning. He knew she was harboring some internal conflict over the stained sheets that morning, but something in the way she tapped the blade of her dagger on her lip told him that was not why she spoke. "What doesn't make sense, darling?"

He pushed away from the wall he was leaning on to approach her. From the corner of his eye he saw the Powell Commander raise an eyebrow of surprise at the term. Rose wasn't looking at him. She was staring intently at the portrait of his father. Her next question caught him off guard.

"We know that Harold opened the Rift." Rose twirled the dagger between her fingers before moving away from the window. "But why? What's his end game? What was his motivation?" She looked over at the maps spread out on the stone war table and crossed to them. "His tactics don't make any sense."

"What are you talking about, Your Highness?" Commander Harriet looked as puzzled as the Empress. "We're talking about a mad man. Nothing he does makes sense. You can't try to comprehend his decisions."

James followed Rose to the table. Her eyes were glowing lightly as she moved her hands over the scale models of troops. She was muttering under her breath too fast for him to catch what she was saying. "We're missing something aren't we?" He huffed. She didn't answer, just kept adjusting positions on the map.

"Harold isn't masterminding the armies." Rose finally spoke. "He's providing intelligence on basic troop movements, but someone else is giving the orders." She moved a spare figure over to the outline of the Cardiff mountains. Everything was starting to look more clear. "In regards to the strategy to counter his movements, stop them. Stop thinking like we are facing a madman. These battles are nothing more than tests of our response strategies."

Rose took James' fingers and placed them on the major cities one at a time. "They are not planning an invasion." She hissed as everything came into focus. "They are planning a massacre."

James caught onto her line of thinking as soon as she touched his hand. "The village raids were ruses. They wanted us to evacuate them to the cities." He spun around to face the women in the mirror as a trumpet echoed behind them. "No! I'm not finished!" He shouted.

"We have to go." Idris frowned. "As soon as this battle is over I will contact you again. I love you." She flicked her eyes to Rose for a moment. "Don't let him do anything foolish, Princess."

Rose dipped her chin in a respectful bow. "I won't Your Majesty. Fight well, Commander!" The mirror went blank. She grabbed James' arm. "Listen, we are still missing something crucial. You said Harold was driven mad trying to cast a spell. What spell?"

"We don't know." James ran his hand through his hair. "That's the problem. Nobody knows. He destroyed half of the hunting lodge he was staying in. When they found him, he was curled into a ball screaming about voices."

Rose rested her forehead against his upper arm as she tried to connect the riddle even with missing clues. "Had anything happened to him before that, tragedy wise?"

"His mother died in childbirth." James offered. "About seven weeks before." Suddenly his mind starting clicking pieces together. "Which was already a huge scandal, because his father had died in an avalanche when he was ten. She never remarried. She never named the father of the child either." He kissed the top of Rose's head roughly. "You're a genius! He was trying to conduct a resurrection spell."

Rose tilted her head slightly and chewed her bottom lip. "I'm not very studied on spells, but aren't resurrection spells impossible?"

James nodded. "Yes. They are, nobody has attempted one in centuries. The last recorded account caused the mage who tried it to explode and destroy her entire village." They finally knew what had driven his cousin insane, and some part of him held a heavy sympathy. He understood how devastating the loss of a parent was.

"Who was attending the birth?" Rose gasped suddenly, another thought slipping into place. "I mean, who was her midwife?"

James gave a frown of pain, and Rose knew what he was going to say before he spoke. "My mother. She's unbelievably adept at healing magic. By the time she made it there, my aunt had already lost too much blood. The baby was too early and died shortly after."

They both jumped as Ianto came speeding into the room, a massive volume in his hand. "Your Highnesses!" He gasped sliding to a stop. "I found it! I found the Rift spell."

"Show us." James yelped, as Ianto shoved the book onto the table and opened to a marked page. His eyes flew over the circular script until he saw what was needed to break the spell. "Royal blood of Gallifrey spilled by a dagger blessed by the priests of the sun must be poured over the rift under a new moon."

Rose shook her head and turned to Ianto. "Go find Jack. Have him relay this information to my father. It's a little too late, but knowing how it was done may help the Lord General come up with a way to close it again" Ianto nodded and hurried from the room, book in hand.

"Why my father?" James whispered. "Harold and I were alone so many times the week leading up to the assassination. He could have killed me any time, so why did he choose my father?" It didn't make any sense to him. His blood was royal, and could have been used just as easily. If it had been done, then the alliance would never have been formed. Neither country would have had the right leverage to broker a treaty as solid as the one that currently existed. "It doesn't make sense."

Rose knew the look of survivors guilt when she saw it, and she placed a hand on his arm. Even as she was trying to find the words to comfort him, the Wolf inside of her was sniffing at the missing piece to the puzzle. The thought that came to her mind was not one to be spoken lightly. "James, please do not be angry with me, but I have to ask." She nearly flinched as his cold blue eyes looked over to her. "What is the possibility that the Emperor was the father of the baby?"

James yanked away from her touch at the insult. There was no possible way that his father had done something like that. Yet, his mind began trailing over the months leading up to his aunt's death.

His mother had been in Arcadia overseeing the final tests of the Royal Academy, and that had trip had been nearly two months long. It had fallen at the time of the spring solstice celebration. As per tradition, a massive three day long feast had occurred, and there was no shortage of wine and spirits. His memories were vague, but he did remember Rassilon paying an unusual amount of attention to his aunt.

"Your face says it all, love." Rose sighed, understanding now why Harold had done everything. "He wants revenge, to make us all feel his pain." She watched as James rubbed his hands over his face, looking beyond destroyed emotionally. "He won't rest until we're all." Her voice fell short as gave a yowl of pain and clutched his chest. "What's wrong?" She reached for him, only to have him stumble back, face twisted in agony.

This had happened to James only one time before, and the tears began before he could draw another breath. Despair and rage rolled through him, and the Storm broke free. He couldn't stop it. Lightning cracked from his fingers and shattered a window. Wind swirled around the room, scattering the maps and papers in a tempest. "No!" His voice was thunder in the crowded room, and he barely registered Jack and Rory bursting through the door.

"Get out!" Rose screamed over the roar of the wind. She didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was she was certain James did not want anyone to see him so far gone. "I can handle this! Go!" The Wolf's voice snapped at the men, and they both backed out of room. Quills and shards of glass bit into her skin as she struggled through the maelstrom to James.

Her mind was howling back, telling her to run, but she couldn't. She pushed the sharp pains on her face and neck away, and reached out to grab his hand. She clenched his fingers, despite painful shocks shooting up her arm. "James!" She grimaced through the pain, moving her free hand to his face. "Look at me."

Urgent fingers cupped his cheek and a voice broke through the fulmination. His eye cleared enough to see Rose clinging to him. Small cuts trickled blood down her cheek and neck, and he wondered for a moment why his energy danced along her skin. Suddenly he was being pulled down, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. Fierce lips on his shattered the storm into nothingness. He pulled back from Rose, sobbing heavily. The pain and confusion on her face made him choke out. "She's dead."

"Who's dead?" Rose whispered, from where she was seated on his lap, hugging him tightly. "James, what is going on?"

"My mother." James had to fight to keep from giving into the hurricane in his mind. "I felt it."

"Are you sure?" Rose tried not to sound disbelieving, as his pain was evidence that he was telling the truth.

"Children are bonded to their parents' magic." James gasped, pain stabbing into his heart but growing fainter. "I felt her as surely as I felt my father." He wrapped his arms around her, needing something to keep the storm at bay.

Rose wasn't sure how long they sat there. She didn't bother counting the time. She just said nothing and let him cope in his way. It wasn't until snow and ice began pelting in through the shattered window that James finally moved. His face was blank, and she knew there was nothing she could do to fix it. She released him, letting him stand and stretch. Her face stung from cold and the minuscule cuts in her flesh. Then she staggered, stiff and cramped to her own feet

James looked down at her clearly now and was inwardly disgusted with himself at the trickles of dried blood staining her cheeks. Tiny shimmers of glass were visible in some and he heaved a heavy sigh. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He knew his own words were dead and cold.

"Just some scrapes." Rose shrugged off the pain before turning to look at the mirror. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought that she had run face first through a bramble patch. "I've had worse." She consoled him. "They'll heal."

A soft knock drew their attention, and the door opened to reveal Sylvia, Donna, Sarah Jane, and Jack. All of them were clothes in black, and Sarah Jane was the first to speak. "We just received word from the battle front."

James nodded, the emptiness in his chest confirmed. "I know. I felt it." He kissed Rose's head and gave her a gentle push towards his ever faithful nursemaid. "Please tend to my wife's wounds. I must go and pray."

Rose didn't want to leave him, but every Gallifreyan present was giving her a look that said not to argue. There were no clear eyes as Sylvia, who had up until now treated her with snobby condescension, wrapped an arm around Rose's shoulder and pulled her into the hall.

Jack had his arms around Donna, and the strong, proud woman was sobbing into his chest. Sarah Jane began ushering the pair towards Jack's chambers. The corridors were dark, as gauzy black veils were draped over the glowing orbs of light, and the normal buzz of the various castle inhabitants was gone. Somewhere from the center of the city, a massive bell began to ring. The tolling sound shook Rose to her core, and caused the Wolf inside her soul to whimper in mourning. She had hardly knew the Empress, but her love for James made her heart shatter.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Rose whispered to the older woman who was guiding her silently down the corridor to the family wing of the palace. She knew Sylvia and Donna had their rooms in this wing, but she had never been to the older woman's chambers.

"You know better than I the hazards of war, Princess." Sylvia sniffled, as she led them into her room. It was decorated in light colors, with paintings of spring flowers and pastel feathered birds. She waved Rose to a chair beside the fire and brought the wash basin and an empty bowl over. "But I am grateful for your sympathies."

Rose was unsure how to respond to that, so she simply sat silently and let her aunt by law remove the tiny slivers of glass and bits of quill from her face and neck. Then the woman began to wash her magic over the cuts, and though it shone green and smelled of pine needles, the bitter salt of grief reminded Rose of her damp pillow the night before she left the sea.

On the other side of the castle, James sat silently in his parents' empty bed chambers. He ran his fingers along the bottles of flower oils his mother had worn in her hair and on her skin. With tears in his eyes he moved over to the heavy crimson cloak that had been worn by his father the last time James had seen him hold court. He ran his palm along the fur at the collar and heaved a sigh.

James continued around the room, until he found himself at the transparent silver curtains that covered his mother's private shrine to the gods. He pulled back the thin silk and touched his finger to the singed wicks of the candles there. Then his eyes caught the porcelain bowl his mother used to put things in for them to bless. Inside was a single lock his his hair from when he was a baby, but it was wrapped inside the withered petal of a rose.

His tears began anew, as he saw he last prayer in this room. Even with the knowledge that she was going into war, her final request to her gods was for his happiness. It was so like her to be selfless. James dipped his fingers into the well of oil being held by the goddess of the night, and traced it in a swirl on his forehead. Then he fell to his knees and begged of the gods to turn back time. Golden light swirled around the shrine and settled onto the wilted petal in the bowl. It slowly began to change, becoming more vibrant and regaining its scarlet pigment.

"Mother." James whispered, reaching his trembling fingers to the sparkling essence. "Please don't go." The glittering light swirled around his hand and dissipated into nothingness. He lowered his hand to the prayer bowl and grazed his fingers across the petal. He may now be an orphan, but he would never be alone.

The bell of the city cathedral began to toll in its cloister. He waited, breathless, counting the dongs. Twelve times it rang out. Twelve times his heart broke in succession. Then, from the outside of the castle walls, the songs of mourning rose up from the citizens. He stood, crossing the room like he was bogged down in water, and pulled aside the heavy curtains.

Twilight was settling over the land, and the yellow glow of candles could be seen through the light downfall of snow. They flickered to life in the dark windows of every home, then slowly they moved to the street. Every citizen, whether man, woman, or child, was making their way to the castle gates. Their procession filed into the snow covered castle grounds. James turned from the sight and strode out into the hall. Sarah Jane was waiting, a shining black cloak in her hands, and under that was his iron and platinum crown.

He took it from her and pulled it around his shoulders, fastening it with the silver clasp at his throat, and he bowed to let her slide the heavy weight onto his brow. Then he hugged his nursemaid, kissing the tears from her cheek.

James curled his arm around her shaking shoulders as they walked to the top of the staircase. Rose was waiting, her face free of the injuries he had inadvertently caused, wearing the black robes of his people. Her hair had been combed out so it fell in golden waves to her waist. On her own head sparkled the diadem she had been born to beae. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, and it struck him that he had never seen her cry.

Rose extended her arm to her husband, and they silently made their way down the stairs. She had no idea what was coming. Sylvia had simply instructed her to follow James' lead. She looked up at her husband, whose face looked graver than death itself. Later, she knew, he would truly grieve. Now was the time for strength. That she could give him. That she knew how to do.

The black robed mages at the castle entrance bowed low and pulled open the doors. With Rose by his side, her tiny but never faltering hand clutching tightly to his arm, he stepped out to face his people. The singing came to a whispering halt, at the sight of the Prince and Princess framed by the glow the castle.

James raised his right hand to the sky and let loose a mighty surge of lightning. It crackled from his body, never seeming to end, pulling at his energy by not tiring him. He opened his mouth and let his voice clap out like the thunder in his soul. "The Empress has fallen in battle. The Empress has passed into the hall of the gods. The Empress is dead!"

Rose watched the raw display of emotion and power from her husband. Something was changed about him. His once graceful and stalwart posture now seemed burdened by something more than the losses he had endured. His voice was strong, but she could hear the fear and uncertainty under it. Silence fell around them, and his eyes never left the crowd of people lit by candles before them. He seemed to be waiting, almost as if for the executioner's axe to fall.

Then magic began to flow from the crowd. A rainbow of colors shot out of the hands of every citizen. It didn't travel upwards to meet his own in the sky. The swirling leaves, bursts of petals, mists of water, flickers of fire, and tendrils of fire surrounded her and her husband. It twisted and tangled, settling over them like a gilded cage. Rose's heart sang, and the Wolf stirred with an approving hum. Rose looked up at her husband. His crown had changed. It was larger, more imposing, and it was adorned with massive sapphires and pristine diamonds. She recognized it as his father's. She knew if she could see her own reflection, that the crown of Empress Idris would be on her own hair.

Then, as if someone had given some signal she missed, every voice began to chant. The castle grounds echoed out the call, and its words reverberated off of the mountains behind them. "Long Live the Emperor! Long Live the Empress."

Rose heard James repeat the call of his people. Then the citizens answered back again, louder and stronger. The reality of what was occuring settled heavily on her shoulders, and now she understood his new demeanor. It was the weight of his people. No, it was the weight of their people. 

 

 


	10. To Worship or to War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluffy smut with some heavy decisions. My token of peace to ask forgiveness for the last chapter

The fall of the Empress should have been a massive blow to the allied armies. However, the exact opposite occurred. Spurred by the loss of their beloved leader, the citizens of Gallifrey rallied together in ways Rose had never dreamed possible. Every able bodied citizen that could be spared was delving into combat training. Every day word came in of volunteers to serve where needed throughout the country.

Her father sent every soldier he could afford to the Empire to assist with the fortification of the cities. The forces of Skaro were gaining ground, and despite all efforts to contain them to the mountains, they were slowly advancing into both countries. To top it off, rumors of two cloaked men traveling northward had every major city on high alert. Anywhere the men were sighted, devastation was left in their wake.

Exactly one week after his mother's death, James had received his first communication from his cousin. Rose's reaction to the message had frightened half the castle staff. It had taken three guard mages, Jack, and Donna to keep her from riding out at that very moment. A Gallifreyan steed had arrived at the city gates carrying an emissary from King Peter's personal envoy. The woman was dead long before she had ever made it to the city. Her throat had been slit, and seared into her chest were the words 'Everyone will burn'.

James knew that the message was not an idle threat. Harold was insane enough to try, that was obvious. What was concerning everyone was how had he managed to rally the armies of Skaro, and who was the man traveling with him. That was the hardest part of the war. The worst part of it all, was they still seemed to be unable to collect any information on the Dalek plans.

The night after the murdered emissary arrived, Rose sat in front of the fire and stared at her husband. He was staring at the flames with a far away look in his eyes. She cleared her throat and he shook his head to look at her. "I think it's time we took the battle to Harold and his mysterious companion." She leaned forward and as he scowled. "I know what the laws say, but maybe it's time for a change, love. Whether we go to him, or he comes here, there will be a battle. I'd prefer to have the element of surprise on our side."

James scowled, which he had been doing a lot of lately, and Rose waited for him to debate her logic. "I think you're right." He huffed. "This waiting and planning is growing tiresome." He scratched at the stubble on his chin and shook his head. "We just need a spell to seal the Rift. The scholars in Arcadia say they are close to finding a way."

"We give them one more week to find a solution, and then we ride out." Rose's face was firm in her position, and James found himself enamored all over again by the confidence and resolve in her eyes. "I won't see our people suffer any longer."

James managed to give her a genuine smile and took her head. "Tonight, though." He murmured, pulling her to her feet as he stood. "I would like to take my wife to bed. I have been neglecting my duties as husband." He slid his hands down to her narrow waist and pulled her against him. "If she'll have me."

"She has been neglecting her duties as wife." Rose felt her heart quicken. It had been over two weeks since they had made love, with the stress and responsibilities that now fell on their shoulders. "Take me to bed then, husband." She snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his chest.

James hummed at the feeling and swept her up into his arms. He caught her lips with his own and sighed as she returned the kiss with a slow passion. As aggressive and domineering as she was when in combat, he loved the way she yielded to him in this manner. He carried her easily to their bed and lowered her slowly to the soft blankets there.

Rose wrapped a leg around his hips as he crawled slowly over her. She pressed her body up to his as he trailed his fingers softly down her sides. She sighed softly as his tongue danced against hers, and she rubbed her hands lovingly across his shoulders and down his arms.

James broke their kiss long enough to let her sit up and pull her night gown over her head and drop it on the floor. When she lay back on the sheets, he took the time to memorize the way the firelight lit up her skin. There were no words to describe the depth of his emotions for her, so he let his movements and eyes speak for him. He lowered his lips to her neck, feeling the passion beginning to kindle low in his belly, and began kissing his way down her chest.

Rose arched her body into him, moaning breathily as James twirled his tongue around her nipples. His the gentle thrum of energy from his fingers made her skin tingle in anticipation. When his lips didn't stop trailing down her body she was slightly disconcerted, as he had never lavished such attention on her stomach and pelvis before. She was about to question his intentions when his tongue slipped through her slick folds and pressed against just the right spot. Her words died on her tongue and were replaced with the a breathy gasp of pleasure. Her hips bucked up reflexively to his touch.

James grinned in pride at the way she jerked under his touch. Feeling on her nails scraping through his short hair and her thighs clenching against his ears spurred him on. He swirled his tongue around the pink bud, then latched his lips around it. He looked up just enough to watch her bite her lip into her mouth. He didn't want her quiet tonight. He wanted her crying his name in the wild way of hers. So he gave a tentative suck and then flicked the tip of his tongue against her.

Rose was gone, her mind blissfully blank under the attentions of her husband. Each stroke of his tongue and pull of his lips had her gasping and writhing under him. She had never experienced such overpowering ecstasy in her life. She felt him slowly slip first one finger and then a second inside of her. They curled just right, and a whole other level of pleasure shot straight up her body. She felt that wave building inside of her, each thrust of his hand and twirl of his tongue forcing it higher and higher. Rose wanted to hold it back, to make it last, but it crashed over her. She cried his name and felt her entire body tense and lift from the blankets. Her blood pounded in her ears, and lighting exploded across her vision.

James felt his ego inflate in only the way Rose could make it, and he eased the speed of his hands and tongue until she lay shaking and panting on the bed. Her skin was flushed as he crawled his way back up her body and slid his tongue against hers. He took himself in his hand and guided it towards the burning wetness of her entrance. He needed to feel her around him with an intensity he had never before experienced. He pushed into her, gasping at the flutter of her body around him. He broke the kiss to moan her name into her chest when she wrapped her legs around him and raised her hips to meet his thrusts. He doubted that there existed a more holier feeling than the way they moved together.

Each thrust James gave inside of her made Rose feel like she was a goddess. She kissed his neck, pulling lightly at the skin with her teeth. The moan in his chest stoked the fire in her veins even higher. She rocked under him, wanting to give him back everything that he offered her. Her nails trailed gently down his spine, and when he met her eyes she saw more love than she could ever have dared to dream of. The tension was building inside her again, but it wasn't a powerful wave or a rapidly approaching cliff. It was like the morning creeping over the horizon. She pulled his head down, losing herself in his touch and the taste of his lips. He nipped softly at her lower lip and dawn burst to life inside her.

James caught his lover's cry of completion in his mouth, and it soaked light into his soul. He felt his own satisfaction pursuing hers with an ever increasing intensity. He slid one arm beneath her body, pulling her closer, and buried her face in the sweet softness of her hair and skin. His release came like the clouds parting after a storm. He pressed into her, wanting to erase any space between them as he poured out his love and devotion to her. "I love you." He whispered breathily in her ear.

Rose sighed as he slid from her, trembling from the passion they shared. "I love you too." She sighed, holding him tightly. He didn't move, but his weight on her was not imposing. She lowered her legs from his hips, and ran them along his bare thighs. When he rolled over onto the blankets, he pulled him with her, and she found herself sprawled across his heaving chest.

James wanted to lay like that for the rest the night, holding her close and forgetting the war that ravaged their land. His desires however were short lived as a knock at their chamber door drew their attention. "One moment!" He called and kissed her hair. He slid from the bed and found his pants discarded on the cold floor.

Rose followed after him, stumbling on shaky legs as she retrieved a pair of her own pants and a warm shirt from a chair by the bed. She dressed quickly and tried to do something with the tangled curls of her hair. Once they were both decent, she watched as James pulled the door open.

Jack was standing there, with a grim look on his face. "Sorry to interrupt, your Majesties, but there's something you should see."

James looked over at Rose as they followed Jack into the corridor and up the stairs to the observatory tower. Donna was there, looking flushed in the cheeks as she fixed her hair. He raised an eyebrow at her then looked at Jack. Barely covered by by the collar of the Captain's shirt was a tell tale red mark. His cousin smirked smugly at him before she pointed at the large window facing the south. "We're not sure what it is."

Rose and James moved closer to the window, and far in the horizon the night sky was lit orange. "What is that?" She gasped, pressing her palms to the glass. "Is that fire?"

"Can't be." James shook his head and squinted at the glow in the distance. "Hang on." He pulled away and darted over to a blanket covered object pushed into the corner. "Jack, help me." He called over his shoulder and ripped the cloth off. He grinned when ran his hands over what was exposed. "Telescope." He huffed as Jack helped him slide it across the floor. "Father and I used it to chart the stars."

"I know what a telescope is." Rose snorted as she unlocked the latches of the window and pulled the glass panels open wide." She stepped back as the men pushed the telescope onto place and aimed the end towards the horizon.

James squinted into the eyepiece and began adjusting the focuser. He could just make out the far distant light. It wasn't fire. It was writing in the sky. "Look." He ordered to Rose as he stepped back. His stomach clenched in rage.

Rose moved behind the telescope to look. In the sky was the circular script of Gallifreyan. "Arcadia" Rose squinted to make out the hazy words. "Arcadia will fall first." She back to look at James. "Not if I have anything to say about it." She growled, the Wolf stirring in her mind. "Forget a week." She met James' eyes. "We ride out tomorrow."

"Agreed." James nodded. "Jack, put out the word. I need every able bodied volunteer to be ready to ride at first light. Donna." His cousin cut him off.

"No, I'm riding with you." She gave a cynical laugh. "If you think I'm sitting back while you three ride off on some suicidal quest of vengeance, you're out of your mind." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Rose smiled broadly at her friend. "The Daleks won't know what hit them." Her affection for the woman grew larger when Jack slid his arm around the feisty ginger's shoulders and grinned at her.

"Once the call has been put out, go get some rest." James huffed shaking his head. "And I mean rest." He grabbed Rose's hand, led her down into the counsel room and waved his hand at the mirror there. It shimmered and wavered for a few moments before King Peters battle weary face came into view.

"Rose!" Her father gasped and placed a hand on the mirror. "Oh how I've missed you sweetheart." His went wide at the affectionate way James was draping his arm around her shoulders.

She had not had any direct contact with him since since the wedding. Every time they had spoken with the Lord General, Pete had been out with his army. It seemed that word of her change in heart had not yet reached him. "I missed you too." She smiled. "But this is not the time for idle chatter. Harold is growing closer to Arcadia. We ride out in the morning for the city."

James watched as the King swelled with pride at his daughter. Although, the tell tale sign of paternal worry flickered behind his eyes. "But the laws of Gallifrey say-"

"We make the laws." James said firmly. "And we have decided that we will meet our enemies in battle." He looked down for a moment at Rose and then looked up. "Rose and I will emerge victorious, or we will pass into the halls of the gods." He knew his eyes were flashing. "Whatever the outcome, we go together."

Rose felt her heart fill at his words. "We will lay them to waste. I will sit idle no longer. I am the Wolf. The Wolf does not cower behind others." She looked up at James with confidence. "And the Storm will carry her rage on his thunder."

They both saw the look of understanding fall over King Peter's face. "We are not far from Arcadia. We will meet you there." He raised his fist to the glass. "May the sun be ever at your back." With his final words the mirror faded back to its normal.

Rose turned to James, her heart both heavy and light. "We will stop them." She said firmly. "And our lands will not fall to ruin."

"But first, we rest." James cupped her face in his palm. Then together they made their way to their room. As they lay wrapped around each other in the dark, they sent their own silent prayers to the gods to not let them be separated

 


	11. The Lion's Roar

The sun rose over the forest and sparkled off of the armor plates covering James' chest and shoulders. His protective coverings covered only his vital organs so as to leave his arms and legs free to move and use the Storm with ease. The armor-smiths had decorated it with symbols of protection and blessings of stamina and dexterity. The intricate swirls shimmered with golden and sapphire light. The back held patterns as well, a massive thunder head rolling over the forest. He would have preferred to go without it, but Rose had insisted. Anurob snorted beside his shoulder, drawing him from his musings to gaze out at the men and women around him.

The call to arms had been answered in a way he could never had hoped for. Over half of the citizens had been waiting throughout the city streets when he and Rose had ridden out to them two mornings before. As they traveled through the forests and closer to Arcadia, more and more people had joined their ranks. James had been slightly taken aback by the sheer number of his people who were so willing to fight for their land. He had no real experience in leading a fighting force large than a hundred. That's where Rose had stepped in.

He had seen her in the scuffed and dented training armor during exercise before, but looking at her now was awe inspiring. The armor-smiths of Tardis had gifted her with a full set of shining silver armor. It fitted around her form in a way that both flattered her and gave a thrill of terror down his spine. The plates of her torso had been etched with spells of protection in old High Gallifreyan. The intricate patterns shimmered with the same colors as his. The protective coverings on her arms and legs had been etched to look like wolf fur, and the helmet was designed to look like the profile view of a wolf calling out. She wore it effortlessly it seemed to him.

Rose stood above the everyone, on one of the supply wagons, and she was currently barking out positions. Those who preferred to carry weapons were paired with those whose magic was strong. It wasn't an easy task. In fact, for her, it was the first time she has ever done such a thing. Give her a cavalry, some infantrymen, or archers and pikemen, those she knew how to arrange without a problem, but trying to figure out which mages suited which form of combat best was a whole other story.

She assumed she was doing well, as James was nodding in approval at her decisions. Arcadia was still a few hours ride away, but they had to assume they would be riding straight into battle with no time to prepare. The armor clasped around her body was lighter than any she had ever worn, and it flowed and moved with each step. At first she doubted its ability to stand up to a sword, but she knew her people would not do that to her. With everyone sorted out, she leapt from the supply wagon and strode over to James where he held the reins to her own horse.

They shared a look and mounted in unison. Jack joined them on her right, and Donna positioned herself on James' right. James signaled their troops and they rode forward. As the sun rose higher, the wind began blowing up from the south. The Wolf inside of her began to stir, raising the hair on her arms under her mail and armor. She looked over at the Emperor, and his eyes were slowly beginning to spark. Just before noon, the forest began to thin, and the tall tower of the Royal Academy became visible in the distance. With it came the smell of smoke. They broke free of the treeline, and the sounds of shouting and the clash of steel met their ears. As they crested the hill they saw the cause.

Before them, Acardia was under siege. The high walls of the city were manned with mages fighting off the Daleks trying to scale the smooth stones. Blood soaked the slush and mud as the soldiers of Powell and the mages of Gallifrey struggled to keep the merciless forces at bay. A massive ball of fire erupted from the head of the fray, and golden armor shone like a sun. King Peter was standing side by side with the Lord General. His sword brandished high as he let loose a fearsome roar that made the horses jerk and rear. Rose threw back her head, raised her sword, and answered back with a howl that caused the troops behind her to cheer. The flurry of battle below them paused for just a moment, as Dalek and human turned round to see the small legion upon the hill.

King Peter bellowed his roar again, and this time Jack answered back with Rose's howl. James raised his fist high and set loose a fury of lightning bolts into the sky. At his signal, the army they had amassed surged forward down the slope and into the fray. Somewhere slightly ahead of him, Rose leapt from her mount and began hacking into the Dalek forces. James followed her lead, lending his magic to the battle. They swirled and ducked in synchronized movements. His power would obliterate one demon only for her sword to slice another. They surged their way to the king and the general, who were keeping a large group away from the barricaded gates.

Rose was alive. This is who she was. The Wolf was in total control, and it felt so natural to let her body move. Despite her reservations of the lightweight armor, it kept the blows from the swords, fists, and teeth of the Daleks from harming her. She felt James' maelstrom around her, the wind and crackle of his power was fully unleashed. The enemy forces around them could gain no ground against the Bad Wolf and the Oncoming Storm. From somewhere to her left, she heard the fearsome growl of Jack's Tiger and felt the blazing heat from the wildfire Donna was unleashing at his side.

The additional forces that had come from Tardis gave the leverage needed to drive back and slaughter the forces of Skaro. Everywhere, mages were following the example of their Emperor and Empress. They paired off with soldiers of Powell, lending their magic in conjoined assaults. James realized, somewhere in his mind, that this must be how the first war had been fought. This was the only way their ancestors could have emerged victorious. King Peter was suddenly by his side, bloody blade biting into the skull of a Dalek who was prepared to leap onto James' back. The Lord General unleashed a wave of molten lava on the Dalek who was currently grabbing onto Rose's shield.

The sound of screeching metal and shattering wood pierced their ears, and Rose saw the city gate explode in a ball of blue light. A platoon of larger, and far more deformed, Daleks were casting beams of light from their blue eyes. She broke free of the fighting around her, and dashed full speed at the mayhem of the gates. She snarled in rage, her sword slicing through the necks of the attackers with a satisfying crunch and squelch. Following her lead, a group of allies surged forward, trying to protect the gates. A wave of Daleks stormed forward, pushing Rose and her warriors into the city streets. Try as she did to get back out to the main combat, she was forced back into the city. With renewed rage, she ordered the people around her to keep the fighting in the main thoroughfare. She had to protect the city.

James heard the gates shatter, but he could not break free of his enemies to get through to assist. From his peripheral vision, he saw Rose and a group of mages and warriors being forced back into the city. "Hold the line!" His voice thundered to those around him. His eyes found Jack and Donna, who had just freed themselves from a particularly vicious assault. "We have to protect the gates!" He called to them.

Jack's snarling eyes found his, and James saw first time the full power of the Tiger. He unleashed a guttural roar and a group broke free to follow the man's fluid sprint to the desolated entrance.

James dashed to the wall. Summoning cyclone of wind and rain around him, he jumped up along the white stones. The squall he had formed around himself thrust him upwards, and a pair of mages on the ramparts grabbed his arms and pulled him over the edge. He paused only long enough to spot his Wolf. She was being driven back towards the cathedral where they had wed. Her helmet was gone, and her golden braid glistened with gore in the afternoon sun. With the wrath of the tempest unleashed, James threw himself from the top of the wall onto the roofs of the buildings below. He let loose bolts of energy from above onto the wave of enemies pushing Rose and her fighters closer to the cathedral. Thunder clapped over head as each strike hit its mark.

Rose felt her spirit rise as she saw James rushing towards her. From his high ground, he was able to work without being injured. Citizens of the city soon began joining him, unleashing their energy below. Rose saw the massive fountain of the moon goddess pass her on the right, and she realized she and her dwindling warriors were close to being pinned down. This was not beneficial to their side. Suddenly a orange light surrounded her. It rippled across her exposed face and head painfully, making her howl not in fury but in agony. The ground was gone beneath her, and she clung to her sword as she rose higher. She felt like she was burning, and welts were beginning to raise on her face. She spun, still suspended, against her own movements to come face to face with a wicked smile.

James saw Rose being lifted when she yowled in agony. He followed the wave of light up to the highest window of the cathedral. Harold stood there, his hands outstretched. The windows were thrown wide open, and Rose was propelled forward as Harold turned and tossed her inside. "No!" James bellowed. He sprinted across the final roof, jumped into the wind swirling around him, and soared over the heads of battle below. With a crash of thunder, he shattered the cathedral doors and raged his wage inside.

A hooded man stood at the altar, the mutilated bodies of the priest and priestess at his feet. He lowered his hood, revealing a face out of nightmares. His skin was flailed and hanging. Rotted teeth smiled evilly from behind blackened lips. His cheeks were sunken and hollow, and no eyes supported the flaccid eyelids. In the middle of his forehead was the same blue eye of the Daleks. There was no mistaking who this could be. "Davros." James sneered. "This ends now."

"I think not." Davros gave an amused laugh. "Your magic is nothing compared to my power." He raised his hands, sickly blue light forming around him. "Even your ancestors could not fully destroy me." His scab coated hands flicked forward, blasting a beam of light at him.

James squared his stance, panting, and summoned his lightning to surround him. He threw it forward, so it collided with Davros' light. The two energies collided and ricocheted off in different directions. Holes blasted through the walls on either side. James continued to pour his energy out, hitting the disfigured monstrosity with bolt after bolt.

Davros threw his head back in a laugh, blocking them with his energy. "You think that is power, boy?" He sneered at James. "I will show you what power is." The diseases aura around him shone brighter, and it whipped out in tendrils. One caught James in the chest, heating his armor in a flash and forcing him to stumble back.

James growled and regained his footing. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Thunder drummed around him, and he surged more bolts at the crazed man. He heard a whizz just in time to duck his head, and he watched as a flaming arrow found it's target in Davros' chest.

Davros howled in rage as Jack and Donna skidded to a stop on either side of James. "Together." Donna gritted out, her flames danced across her skin and crackled from the ends of her hair. James nodded, and Jack growled low in his chest. The Tiger was too far in control to form speech, James knew.

Jack drew his sword, and together James and Donna merged their magic in a torrent of storm and fire. It crashed into Davros, who was trying to dislodge the arrow from his eye. Jack barreled forward, his blade refracting the inferno engulfing the demon, and roared. The sword sliced through Davros' body, cleaving him from left shoulder to right hip. Energy burst free into the air, and a sonic book shattered the windows and knocked the trio to the ground.

Overhead there was a scream of fury mixed with the wounded howl of a wolf. They scrambled to their feet and jumped over the body of Davros where it was rotting into bones at the altar.

Rose had slammed hard into the stone wall on the other side of dusty attic. Her head spun as she staggered to her feet, dragging her sword up with her. Harold was standing there, his blue eyes dancing madly and his smile like that of a madman. "So this is the little princess my sororicidal aunt forces onto my cousin." The orange energy danced around him. "Here I had heard you were a mighty warrior." He sneered, blasting her with an agony inducing wave of magic. "What is it your soldiers used to call you? Bad Wolf? Ha! More like beaten mutt."

Rose felt the Wolf growl in her mind and reverberate through her chest. She struggled against the pain, standing squarely. It took every iota of control to raise her sword. So many retorts danced on her tongue, but she chose the one she knew would make him most reckless. "Says the man who couldn't pop his mother's breast from his mouth even as an adult."

The pain ripped away as Harold screamed at her in fury, pulling at his matted blonde hair. "How dare you speak of her that way! I will end you and everyone you love." He lunged at her, which is just what Rose had intended. If she had learned anything from her few months in Gallifrey it's that mages either lost total control over their magic when enraged, or they lost the ability to channel it. As she hoped, Harold could not harness his.

Rose ducked, ramming her metal covered shoulder into his gut with a growl, and threw him over her back. She swirled on one foot, and delivered a stomp to his face. Thunder cracked from below her feet, and she knew James was close. She needed to end this pathetic creature bleeding beneath her before he could harm James. When Harold grabbed her ankle, she dug her heel into his shattered nose. The man yowled in pain and turned onto his stomach. Rose backed away, swirling her sword.

She was about to plunge her blade into his spine when a blast of summer heat sent her flying across the room. "I'll kill you for that you worthless bitch." Harold scrambled to his feet, prowling towards her. A silver dagger was in his hand. Rose couldn't move, where she was pinned to the wall. "The line of the Whitestars ends tonight. First with you, and then with pretentious cousin of mine."

The blade sliced across her cheek, and Rose howled in fury. Blood spilled across her lips as Harold pulled the blade down to her barely exposed throat. An earth shattering boom echoed around them, and their ears rang with pain. Harold stumbled back. His broken focus allowing Rose to move. She scooped her sword from where it had fallen to the wooden floor and howled out her victory as she swung in down. The sharp blade sunk into Harold's abdomen just as his dagger found its way through the seams of her armor into her hip. Victory gave way to mind shattering pain.

She fell to her knees beside the screaming man, and she watched blood pool from his lips. Harold coughed, splattering blood across her chest plate. He grabbed her hand and his eyes blew wide. "The voices." He choked. "Will the voices stop? Will I see her again?"

The light in his eyes were fading, and the pain in her side made the world tip. She summoned enough clarity to stair into his pleading blue eyes, so much like her husbands and whisper. "Never." The light left Harold's eyes, and the room gave a mighty jerk. All enveloping darkness took Rose into its arms.

James burst through the door to the attic with Jack and Donna close on his heels. All he saw at first was the blood. It splattered the floor and was pooling from a pile of armor and travel stained clothing. Rose lay collapsed on top of his dead cousin, her sword jutting up from his gut. Blood pooled like a reflecting pond around them, and James darted forward. "Rose." He sobbed. "No, please, no." He moved her gently, cradling her in his arms. Her head lolled back without support.

Her face was cut from brow to lip, and crimson fluid washed down her skin. A dagger was stuck between two plates of her armor, and more of her precious life force was staining the silver, trickling across the fur like etchings. Jack was by his side in a moment, and he placed the edge of a blade under Rose's nose. Ever so faint fog blew across the knife. "She's alive." James was overjoyed.

"Just barely." Jack's voice was choked. "Get her armor off of her. Do not remove that dagger!" James did as he was ordered, undoing the clasps and hooks until nothing was left on her body except the warm padded tunic and pants designed to protect her from the armor cutting her skin.

Donna was looking out of the shattered window. "The Daleks!" She called over her shoulder. "They're retreating!"

James barely heard her as Jack began tearing at the pants around Rose's hips. The cloth was heavy with blood, and stuck to her skin. "Either of you know healing magic?" Jack's voice was calm now, but his eyes showed a deathly terror that made James' blood run cold.

"I do!" Donna dashed over to them, kneeling the the viscous puddle beside them. "What do you need me to do?" Her hands flickered to life, slow burning embers dancing under her skin.

"James, hold her still. Even unconscious her body will jerk." Jack swallowed, his voice almost cracking. "You can't let her move or it might damage an artery, if it hasn't already." James squeezed Rose tight against his chest, clinging to her as he kept her limp frame immobilized. "As soon as I pull the blade out, Donna, I need you to mend the internal damage. We can worry about the outer layers later."

Donna nodded and positioned her hands over Rose. "Now!" Jack gasped and yanked the blade straight out. As he predicted, Rose flinched in James' arms. The smell of burning filled the air as Donna closed her hands over the wound.

The blood popped and snapped like oil in a pan as the veins, muscles, and tendons knitted themselves back together. Donna's face grew pale as her strength ebbed. Healing magic took a toll that battle magic did not. James covered her hands with one of his own, letting his energy flow into her. She tumbled back with a breathless gasp, and everyone looked down. The bleeding had stopped, but the cut was still visible showing the meat under the flesh. Donna dug a handkerchief from somewhere in her dress and covered the wound.

"Her face." James spoke to Jack. "It's still bleeding." Trying to staunch the scarlet flow there. His energy was long since sapped, and all he managed was a feeble flicker of a spark.

Jack grabbed the heavy material of James' sleeves and ripped it from shoulder to wrist. With deft fingers he tied it around her head.

Beyond their bubble of pain and exhaustion, the city resounded with a cheer of victory. Over their voices was the sound of a roar. The Lion was calling his daughter. Three sets of eyes lowered to the limp woman, but she remained quiet, her chest moving with breath the only sign of her living.


	12. Forging Friendships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter seems forced and boring after all of the excitements. The next chapter won't! Promise!

Rose was cold. She couldn't think of a time she had ever been so cold in her life. The blanket was tucked around her, that much she could tell. Just the very center of her body was freezing. Except her throat, her throat was on fire. It was hard to move, just trying to open her eyelids was exhausting, but she needed to quench the inferno in her throat. She couldn't even swallow. Her lips stuck together and tore painfully as she cracked them open.

"Shhhh." A grandfatherly voice came from somewhere to her left. She tried to turn her head, but there was a stampede of horses in her skull. "There, there my Lady." Soft but weathered hands cupped the back of her head, and the cool wood of a cup pressed against her lips. She swallowed, and the room temperature water felt divine on her throat. She wanted more, even though her battle trained mind told her to sip.

Her throat, now damp and soothed, gasped out. "Where am I?" Her mind was hazy. She couldn't remember much, but her body told her she had taken a beating. The cup pressed back to her lips, and the life bringing water eased the cacophony of marching in her head. Her eyes opened, and she blinked into the face of a concerned looking man. Something about his smile reminded her of James, and the twinkle in his eye was undeniably Donna's. She had never met their grandfather, but this was most definitely Wilfred. "Grandad?" Her voice was scratchy, but that was always what James and Donna had called him. It seemed to fit.

"Yes ma'am." Wilf's smile crinkled his eyes. "Lay back. How are you feeling? Hurting? Too hot?" He fussed with the blankets and brushed her hair from his face.

"Freezing." Rose shivered, wriggling under the blanket. Her hip gave a twinge of pain that was unexpected. Why did her hip hurt?

"That's to be expected." Wilf stood and propped a pillow behind her back as she was refusing to lay down. "You lost a lot of blood. Gave us all quite a scare." He made his way over to a crackling fire and scooped some thin looking liquid from a pot there into a bowl.

The memories flooded back to her. The battle, the Daleks, James in all his godlike fury, and Harold bleeding out from her sword in his gut. He had cut her and stabbed her. That's why her hip hurt, and why she felt like she had no energy. Even her connection to the Wolf was weak. She vaguely recalled James bursting into that room with Jack and Donna. "Where is James?" She gasped. "What did I miss? Have we defended the city? What about Donna and Jack? Did my father survive?" Her outburst took a toll on her, and she had to gasp a breath.

"Stop worrying, my Lady." Wilfred gave her a gentle smile and settled back into his chair. He stirred the broth in the bowl with a spoon. "You need to get something in your belly. Small sips." The spoon came to her lips, and the thin broth was very nearly the most exquisite thing she had tasted. The blood loss had her feeling a bit delirious. "James is safe, fast asleep in the room next door. Donna and Jack are just down the hall. Your father is with his armies just outside the city."

Rose looked over at the small wooden door across the room. Why wasn't James in here with her? It was definitely night outside. Perhaps he was out at a meeting. She opened her mouth to ask, but Wilf tipped a spoonful of broth on her tongue.

As if he read her mind, he smiled. "You've been out nearly two days." Wilf explained. "He never left your side, but I finally talked him into actually sleeping just a few hours ago."

Rose nodded sluggishly. "Thank you." She rested back, slowly finishing have the bowl of broth before her stomach refused anymore. "What happened?" She brought her hand to her cheek, feeling a thin line there with little bumps: stitches. She didn't care it it would scare. It meant that the healing mages were being sent to more urgent cases.

"You tell us." Wilf gave a chuckle that warmed her heart just a bit. "What happened up there between you and Saxon, eh?" He took a wet rage from a bowl by her bed and began to slowly wipe her face. How she had been sweating when she was so cold, she didn't know.

"I almost didn't win." Rose wince. The admittance to her near defeat wasn't as much of a blow to her pride as she thought. "If that boom hadn't have startled him, he would have slit my throat." She shifted under the blanket, trying to stretch her aching muscles. "What was that anyways?"

"That would be my grandchildren giving Davros a taste of his own medicine." Wilf brimmed with pride as he smiled.

"I remember Jack." Rose squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall the hazy memory. "Wasn't he there too?"

"Like I said." Wilf chuckled. "My grandchildren. I count him too. Just like you." He patted her hand. "Now, you just rest up a bit." Rose nodded. The edges of sleep were already tugging her under, and she let it pull her under.

When James woke, the gray gloaming of dawn was just creeping into the window. He sat up groggily, disoriented for just a moment until he realized he was in his childhood room of his grandfather's apartment at the Academy. He scrambled out of bed and crossed the room to the door.

Wilf was seated beside Rose. His crinkled face was easy in sleep, and his cheek rested where his weathered hand clasped Rose's on the sheet. He recognized that look. When Donna was twelve, she had come down with a nasty case of the pox. Wilf had tended to her day and night, since the winter had prevented Sylvia from traveling to the city. That was the look he had worn when Donna's fever finally broke and he let himself rest.

Rose looked better. Her body was no longer limp and comatose. Her cheeks had regained their flush, and her head turned on the pillow. James' heart finally unclenched when his eyes found the half empty bowl of cold broth on the bedside table. She had woken up sometime in the night. He crossed to his sleeping grandfather and touched his shoulders lightly. "Grandad." He whispered shaking him slightly.

"James." Wilf lifted his head and blinked blearily at him. "What's the matter?"

James chuckled. "You go take my bed." He smiled. "I'll take over from here."

His grandfather nodded and patted his hand before standing. "She's a strong woman, James." He smiled sleepily. "Reminds me of your grandmother." He clapped James' shoulder as he made his way from the room.

James took his place in the chair, and lifted Rose's warm hand to his lips. As if sensing him, she turned her head and opened her eyes slowly. "Hello." He smiled at her lovingly.

"Hello." She sighed returning his smile. "Sorry to make you worry." Her voice was scratchy so James picked up the cup of water and helped her drink.

"Just try not to do it again, eh?" James couldn't help but chuckle at her. He had let her get separated from him, and she was apologizing.

"What did I miss while I was unconscious?" She tried to sit up, but the wince of pain on her face made him stop her

"Not much, actually." James wanted to crawl up in the narrow bed with her, but he knew her hip was still sore. The healers had stitched her up, promising to finish up with her once the more life threatening injuries were tended to. "Your father and the Lord General pushed back whatever remained of the Dalek forces to the mountains. Your mother and Commander Harriet are keeping them contained there. Without a leader, they don't do much but random attacks."

"How are Jack and Donna?" Rose's concern was always for her friends, and it was one of the things he adored about her so much.

"Fine, last I saw them. Jack was loathe to leave your side, but he has been helping rebuild the city gates." He stroked her chin with thump and smiled. "I thought I was going to lose you. We saved the world, but I was so afraid I'd lose you."

Rose gave a short laugh and took his fingers in hers. "It'll take more than a lunatic with a knife and magic to get rid of me." He watched as she bit back a gasp of pain and sat up. "You're stuck with me." She swayed for a moment then looked a bit shy. "I need to, ah." Her eyes drifted around the room.

James caught her intention. "I can carry you." He pulled back the blanket and frowned as she swung her legs slowly over the side of the bed and stumbled to her feet. He caught her by the waist and shook his head. "I said, I'll carry you."

"Need to walk." Rose huffed. "Just hold me up."

His brave wife, never one to feel like a burden or a bother. The look of determination in her eyes and the set of her jaw told him to do as she said. "Okay. Come along." James braced her as he led her to the wash room. Once he was sure she could manage, he stepped outside the door and waited. When she was finished he tried to help her back to bed.

"No." Rose grumbled aiming for the small sofa near the fire. "Tired of laying down, and I'm hungry."

James shook his head and helped her to the sofa. "I'll go get you some breakfast. You stay right here."

When she was safely seated and wrapped in a light blanket, he kissed her head and headed out to the hall. Wilfred lived in the faculty wing of the Academy, since he taught astronomy. The hallways were just beginning to fill with students heading out to assist the city instead of lessons. James found his way to the kitchens, and the cooks nearly tripped over themselves. "The Empress is hungry." He chuckled after he assured them to act as if he wasn't even there. "Something light but warm. Perhaps some toast and some oatmeal?"

Soon he had a tray ready, and he declined their offers to carry it up. Rose wouldn't appreciate a fuss and he knew it. He found her just where he left her. "I bring sustenance." James grinned widely, bending at the waist so she could take a bowl and plate. Then he settled next to her on the sofa.

They ate in silence, Rose was just too famished to speak, but she figured he was being silent just to keep her from overexerting herself. When she finally finished most of her meal, she felt much better. The weak shakiness in her limbs had stopped, as had the massive headache. "I want to go out into the city."

"Are you sure?" James looked shellshocked. "You've only been awake an hour, and you want to go out?"

"A leader should be amongst the people." She smiled at him, and he knew there was no use trying to argue.

James snorted. "We should go see the healers anyways." He took their bowls and set them aside. "You aren't walking either, so don't even think about it." Rose knew there was no point in trying to refute that argument. Even she knew she wouldn't make it a block before her leg gave out. Instead, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.

James smiled against her lips. It felt good to feel them responsive, wet, and warm against his. He knew he couldn't take her waist without ruining the moment, so he settled for stroking them through her hair as she sighed. He savored the kiss for a few moments, then broke free with a smile. "Like I said, not walking."

James helped Rose dress, and she grimaced at the sight of the sutures in her skin. She'd been stitched up before, but she still despised the evidence that she had nearly been bested. She chose a pair of soft and flexible riding pants and a warm but flowing top. Then she let James loop an arm around her back and help her into the corridor.

Jack was just making his way towards the apartment and his face lit up. "Rosie!" He hurried to them and gave them both a wide smile. "Should have known you'd be up and about even though you almost died."

"Just going out for a morning ride in the garden." Rose quipped with a tongue touched smile. "Care to join us?"

James shook his head at the pair as the three of them wound their way out to the main street. He signaled two of the students to bring them horses, and soon he was helping his bride up into the saddle. She couldn't hide the pain from him as she gave a forced smile, but he knew there was no stopping her.

Rose looked at the destruction and hope around them. Evidence of the battle was there in burned building and destroyed homes, but it wasn't that that took her breath away. It was the people. Gallifreyans and Powell soldiers alike were working together to rebuild the city.

"We sent some assistance down to Powell as well." James informed her. There wouldn't be as many repairs needed there, he knew. They Daleks had not gained much of a footing in Rose's homeland. They had been met with an entire populace that was trained to fight.

Riding hurt, but not as bad as walking did. So it was easy for Rose to fight it back and observe as they made their way to the gate. The smell of smoke became more pungent here, and billows of black came from various points outside the walls. When they made it past the partially constructed gates, she saw the cause. Piles of dead Daleks were being burned. There directing the clean up was her father. The Lord General saw them and clapped the King on the back.

James knew what was going to happen before he could stop her. So, when Rose kicked her horse into a canter, he laughed and followed after her. He and the King had reached a mutual level of respect over the past couple of days, but there was no denying the look of fatherly love in his eyes as he caught Rose in his arms. He pulled up on the reins and dismounted.

"I knew you'd be up and around." King Peter was smiling down at his daughter. "Couldn't keep you in bed even as a child."

"You know me." Rose was beaming away at her father. He was the only man in the world who could ever make her feel like a little girl still in curls and ribbons. "I had to make sure my people were okay."

"I think you'll find our warriors are recovering well." Her father stroked her hair and gestured out at the soldiers around them.

James felt his love for her grow even deeper as she shook her head and looked over to the mages tending to the final remaining wounded in makeshift tent hospitals. "No, Father. All of my people." He took her free hand and raised it to his lips softly.

Rose looked between the two men in her life. One was staring at her with adoration and love. The other with pride and a tad bit of incredulity. "You really do love him." Her father raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, Daddy." Rose wrapped her arms around both of them, ignoring the pulling pain in her hip. "I do."

"Well then." The king finally gave James a smile and offered him his hand. "I think it's about time our two countries come to a permanent alliance."

James grasped his forearm in the way of the Powell tradition. "I think we might." Then his eyes traveled over to Rose who was biting her lip and keeping her weight off of her injured side. "But first, our Rose needs to see the healers." 


	13. Peace Everlasting

It had been nearly five days since the attack on the city before the scholars researching the Rift spell finally formulated a new one. The only issue they had been running into, was how to get around the part about a mage and a soldier from blowing themselves up. James knew there had to be another way around it. So, when they brought the new solution before them, he couldn't have been more pleased.

Rose was impressed by the effort that the scholars from both countries had put into developing a new spell to seal the rift. Not only would it keep what remained of the Daleks sealed away, but it insured a lasting alliance between both nations. It was simple in essence, but it required a massive amount of magic from Gallifrey and blood from the soldiers of Powell.

They both agreed that it was the best solution that could be drawn up, given the alternative. Every year, one hundred and twenty Powell soldiers would go to the temple of the Sun and donate a single pint of blood. That blood would then be used to forge exactly one hundred and twenty arrows. They would then ride to the Cardiff Mountains, where they would meet one hundred and twenty mages. The mages would then release their magic onto the arrows as they were fired. Then the arrows would act as magical nails holding the Rift closed. The only way to break the spell would be to either not repeat the ritual or to have the exact same two hundred and forty people from that year's ritual to recall the arrows.

So it was with this in mind that soldiers were sent from the capitol city of Penzance to the temple and from there up to meet Queen Jacqueline at the base of the Cardiff mountains. She and Commander Harriet were holding the Dalek forces inside the shattered Rift barrier. It was a three days ride from the temple to the mountains, and likewise a three day from Arcadia to the arranged meeting place. James and Rose were happy to make it.

Rose stood between her parents as James paired off with one of their archers. Next year she would partake in the ritual. She watched in anticipation to see her mother's reaction to James summoning his magic to him. Her father had already seen it unleashed in all of its glory. When the lightning began sparking off of his skin and hair.

"It's stunning." Her mother gasped as the soldier next to him took aim and fired into the bolt James was unleashing. "I see now why they call him the Oncoming Storm."

The air above the ravine that separated their countries from Skaro shimmered in a display of colors. Everywhere the arrows landed in the barrier, a beam of light shot out over their heads. Once the skies cleared, there was nothing to show the Rift even existed except for one hundred and twenty tiny twinkling lights far over head.

A mining village just at the base of the mountains hosted a Victory celebration. The moon hung full over the dale on the fourth and final evening of the feast. As Rose was dressing for dinner, she stopped as she realized something was not right. She couldn't quite figure out what it was that was missing, but the Wolf in her mind gave no hint of a threat or danger. So she said nothing to James and joined him at dinner.

James had never felt so light hearted and happy. Their kingdoms were finally at peace with each other. They had found a way to keep the Daleks from ever returning. Davros was destroyed, and he was married to a woman who loved him. As the night wore on, he noticed Rose had not been eating as she normally would. He figured it was just the excitement of the past week, and Gallifreyan food had always filled her quickly. When she excused herself from the table, looking a bit pale around her lips, he followed after her to the edge of the village into the woods.

Rose braced one hand against a tree and felt her stomach empty itself. She didn't feel sick, like an illness coming on, just that her stomach was twisted and that the food disagreed. A gentle hand brushed her hair back from her face as she heaved.

"Are you all right love?" James' voice was worried, and he knew it. Rose wasn't one to be ill. If she was sick, she needed to go lie down.

"Just the food." Rose groaned and spat the bitter taste out onto the ground. The full moon caught her eye again, and an idea came to her mind. She spun to face him. Her stomach was still clenching, but it was easing up. "How long has it been since we left Tardis?"

Her words caught him off guard, and he counted back in his head. "Just about 15 days? Why? What's wrong." His eyes danced across her face, and in the light of the moon a myriad of emotions flew through her eyes. "Rose?"

"Earlier tonight." Rose finally whispered. "Something was off, and I couldn't quite figure it out." She froze trying to find a way to word the possibility flying through her heart. "I was due to start my cycle yesterday morning." She gave him a shy smile and took his hands.

"You mean." James was dumbfounded. It was like a thousand stars had been taken from the night and poured into his soul. "A baby? Are you sure?" He watched as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth and he waited for her to confirm it.

"I think it could be." Rose whispered back, seeing the excitement in his eyes made her heart do flips. "I mean, it could always be the stress." Suddenly, she was too terrified to hope. She had been gravely wounded only a few days before. If she was, the possibility that this could result in a miscarriage. "Could one of the midwife mages be able to tell?"

James saw the worry in her eyes and kissed her forehead. "Yes, yes they could. There must be one in the village. Come with me."

He led her back into the light of the fire and torches. His in laws were watching them with inquisitive eyes, and he gestured to them with a hand. Then he stopped a young girl of about six who was chasing a puppy through the crowd. "Fetch the village midwife to our tent." He pulled a coin from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. "And tell no one why." Until he was sure, he did not want his people to know.

They made their way to the tent just as Queen Jacqueline and King Peter reached them. "What's wrong?" Her father asked, his eyes darting between them.

"Nothing." Her mother was smiling at her. "I know that look very well." Rose felt her cheeks flush.

"Just come inside." She shook her head and they four of them ducked into the massive tent. A few moments later, there was a knock on the outer pole. "Come in!" She and James called together.

An woman who looked to be in her mid sixties lifted the flap and came in. She curtsied low and smiled at them. "You requested me, your Majesties?"

"Yes, Mrs?" Rose let the sentence hang for her to respond.

"Hannah." She smiled. "How may I be of assistance?" Her clever eyes were dancing between her Emperor and Empress in a knowing way.

"We would like to know if you would be able to check and see if Lady Rose is with child." James explained, hearing Pete gasp in a breath behind him.

"But of course." Hanna grinned broadly and waved Rose to a cushion in the corner of the tent. "Please, my Lady, sit. I need you to lift your shirt."

Rose obeyed, her heart racing as she settled into her seat. She pulled the heavy fabric of her top up, exposing her stomach and shivered at the chilly air against her skin. The midwife's hands were warm as she knelt beside her and pressed her palms against Rose's pelvic area. A soft yellow light glowed under her skin, and she felt a tickle deep in her abdomen. It was almost like tiny fingers brushing back the pages of a book.

James held his breath, and he felt Jackie's hand sit lightly on his forearm. Everyone was silent, barely even breathing as the light grew more bold. Then it shimmered away as Hannah pulled her palms back and stood. He watched her face and then Rose's, as the two women made eye contact and an unspoken conversation passed between them.

Finally, Hannah smiled, and Rose felt her heart burst into flight. "Indeed. I can say that her Majesty is with child. It is in the very early stages. I almost didn't feel the babe, but it is there." She curtsied again to them both. "Congratulations on this joyous event." Then she tapped her lips. "I shall say nothing until the official announcement, of course."

James barely heard her as he pulled Rose up from where she sat into a fierce kiss. He was going to be a father. The gods had heard his mother's prayers, and he knew that she and his father would be proud had they been here. It was more than he could ever have dreamed of.

Rose smiled against his lips at his sudden passion. She was beyond overjoyed. She was carrying his child, and he was happy. How the gods had thought to bless her so greatly, she did not know. She broke the kiss as her mother wrapped them both in her arms. Over Jackie's arms, she saw a single tear of pride on her father's cheek.

Their lands flourished, the open borders between the kingdoms were bountiful. When Rose reached her forth month in pregnancy, both nations melded together in the new trade center, London, that was being built exactly on the boundaries of both lands.

A week long celebration was held then, and it was there that the four leaders signed an eternal alliance between their people. It was the first city where both citizens of Gallifrey and Powell lived together in harmony. It was also there, in London, on Princess Idris' first birthday that she was presented to both nations publicly for the first time.

In the midst of her birthday feast, Prince Tony let her grasp a toy bow in her hands. Before her parents could take it from her, her uncle helped her draw back the tiny string. The minuscule arrow flew over the table in a burst of golden light. It stuck in a purple berry on her grandfather's plate and exploded in a cloud of glittering dust.

Everyone grew quiet for a moment, and then the crowd erupted into a cheer, and little Idris clapped her hands and let out a tiny wolfish yap of joy.


End file.
